The Darkness Experiment
by ForeverFinally
Summary: Thiefshipping/implied Darkshipping. The Spirit works with the darkness and he has a mission to complete. But he didn't plan for the obstacles that might get in the way.
1. The Cold Within

Summary: The Spirit is one with the darkness and he has a mission to complete. But he didn't plan for the obstacles that might get in the way.

Notes: Takes place in episode 84, when Yami and Bakura are duelling on the blimp. From there it's going to go off into AU.

**The Darkness Experiment**

**Chapter 1**

**The Cold Within**

Ryou had never been in someone else's Soul Room before, and it was confusing and strange, but no more so than what had been happening in the real world.

He'd found himself in the middle of a duel with Yugi, or some other version of Yugi, perhaps. He didn't know how he'd gotten there, only that his arm had hurt and he felt dizzy. It was almost a relief to be here, wherever here was.

It was cold, far too cold, but it was a nice, quiet contrast to his frightened friends' cries back in the real world.

He looked around, and that was when he met the Spirit for the first time.

They had spoken before, of course they had. But it had been brief and just a voice. There hadn't ever been any proper conversation either. If Ryou remembered rightly, the Spirit had only told him things, and had never waited for a reply.

Now he could see the Spirit and talk to him. It. Whatever it was.

"You're safe now," the Spirit said in the voice that Ryou recognised in his mind. The Spirit was a short distance from him and didn't seem inclined to move. It was looking at him as though he wasn't really there anyway.

Ryou cleared his throat; "Oh," he said. Was he supposed to be thanking it? The Spirit didn't look like it expected anything like that. "Is this your Soul Room?" he decided to ask instead.

He knew his own Soul Room, and he knew there was another door leading to the invading Spirits opposite it. He'd never ventured to look at it, though that didn't mean he wasn't curious.

This room was cold and dark and nothing like his own, so it made sense it should be the Spirit's.

"Yes," the Spirit confirmed rather stiffly. It was glancing sideways at Ryou now, and seemed mostly distracted.

It was a strange thing, how the Spirit looked like himself, but didn't really. The Spirit's eyes gave the most away, the prickle of his hair, and the gleam of sharpness in his teeth. All these things adding up to create a decidedly warped version of the reflection Ryou saw every morning.

The warped version of Ryou began to glow then, a painful white aura surrounding it. Ryou watched, not sure whether to be concerned or not.

The Spirit's mouth was a thin line of expectation, like it was bracing itself for something. Then the light grew bigger, brighter, and rippled up and down the Spirit like a fiery river.

It pulled a cry from the Spirit, which Ryou recognised as pain. He took a step toward the other, although he wasn't sure what he'd do.

Then, as suddenly as the light had surrounded it, it dissolved away from the Spirit.

The Spirit sank to it's knees, but it's shoulders were shaking. Ryou felt more than heard the shaking laugh. Perhaps it had something to do with being in the Soul Room.

"Are you..." Ryou didn't know what had happened, nor if he was supposed to be worried for himself.

"You shouldn't be worried," The Spirit half gasped, faint amusement in it's voice. It fell the rest of the way to the ground.

Ryou bit his lip. That was right, the Spirit could read his open thoughts.

He moved uneasily to the Spirit, not exactly frightened, but wary all the same. The Spirit was still and quiet on the ground, and Ryou knelt next to it.

"Is everything alright now?" Ryou asked, not sure what everything was supposed to be. He was confused, cold and wasn't sure why he felt so concerned.

The Spirit's voice was an echo in his head, talking through the rarely used mind link.

"Your weak body is safe now, host," it said simply, and nothing else.

Ryou stared at the Spirit's body, which didn't seem like it would awake anytime soon. It was far too pale and reminded Ryou of death. He shivered, hugging himself. The Soul Room's coldness was creeping all around him, getting stronger, almost biting into his skin.

He wasn't sure why, maybe curiosity was still stronger than caution, and Ryou wasn't really afraid anyway. So he placed his hand on the Spirit's own, very lightly. It was enough; the coldness rushed through Ryou's fingertips, making him wince and jerk away at once.

He shouldn't have been surprised, the Spirit was just that, it was already dead_._

Ryou turned away all the same, like he might be looking at something indecent. He stood up, rubbing his arms. He felt a little stronger, his body was returning to himself, he could feel it.

He walked ahead, through the black rectangle which he supposed was the door of the Soul Room. Before him was nothing but blackness, though it didn't linger long enough for Ryou to feel afraid.

He was being pulled away, the cold was melting from his bones, turning it into warmth and real sensations of dizziness and pain, reminding him he was alive and his body was returning to him.

Ryou opened his eyes.

The blurred, concerned faces of friends were all surrounding him.

"What...what happened?" he murmured.

888

Ryou awoke properly a day later, but Marik wasn't especially interested in him.

"What was that all about, Bakura?" he asked the dormant ring. It had been easy to get it from Ryou, using a mind controlled Tea to deliver it to him.

At that moment Yugi and his friends were searching for it, and that suited Marik just fine.

"Maybe I'll pay you a visit," he tapped the ring, trying to get a sense of the Spirit within it.

There was no reciprocation, and Marik wondered if it was possible the Spirit was weakened so much after Slifer's attack. That whole incident...it confused and irritated Marik more than anything else.

But what did he expect from a reckless tomb robber, anyway? He knew this partnership was always going to be a rocky, unpredictable one.

He frowned at the ring, dangling it in front of his face. It shone rather dully, caught by the artificial lights of the bedroom.

"You better be decent in there," Marik muttered. He put the item round his neck and focussed on a familiar, spiky connection between he and the Spirit.

8

He fell into the Soul Room with a rude thump on his rear, and then he peered round a little dazed.

Black, cold, stony, it wasn't up to much, as far as Soul Room's went. Not that Marik knew very much about them.

"Hello Marik," Bakura was grinning wolfishly, only a few feet away.

"Quite the decor," Marik said, standing up and brushing himself off. He didn't want to grin, but found himself doing it anyway when he noticed Bakura. "I wasn't sure that would work, you know,"

"It makes sense," Bakura said, taking a couple of steps forward. "Whoever wears the ring can be controlled by me, so it's only fair you get access to my Soul Room," he considered, and looked around with a bit of mock regret, "Although a little notice wouldn't have hurt. I'm not up to entertaining unexpected guests, I'm afraid."

"I can see that," Marik gestured all around them, but his gaze rested properly on Bakura, taking him all in at last.

Marik was not very used to observing others, not in the way that you would come to familiarise yourself with close friends, anyway. He'd had little reason or opportunity to. He supposed he could make an exception with Bakura though; they'd been working together long enough anyway.

"You look like you've been to hell and back."

"Not far off, actually," Bakura's grin grew a bit.

Marik frowned. "Why did you do that? It wasn't part of our plan,"

Bakura folded his arms. "_Our _plan? You took me from my host's body without my consent. I don't believe that was part of our plan, either,"

"It would have ensured our victory over Yami,"

"No, it would have ensured my host's death, and that cannot happen,"

Marik considered Bakura's words, which didn't give away any emotion at all. "Is Ryou still connected through your mind link?" he asked. "It might hurt our plans, otherwise-"

"You needn't worry about that. My host is easy to control,"

Marik felt cold with those words, but he swallowed and remembered who he was dealing with, putting a grim smile in the Spirit's direction. "Then the plan is still on? You help me to obtain the God Cards in return for the Rod?"

Bakura nodded and didn't seem like he wanted to say anything else.

Marik blew out a sigh, partial relief but mostly frustration. He ran a hand through his hair and wanted to feel more confident than he was.

"So we lost the duel,"

Marik started, Bakura's voice suddenly much closer. He looked up, and saw the Spirit was at his side, his expression vague and detached. Marik noticed Bakura looked much paler than he remembered, and tired.

"It doesn't matter. Odion is still a part of the contest," Marik told him.

"Do you think that part of your plan will work?" Bakura looked rather sceptical. "A fake Rod, and a fake name. So many lies, Marik," the Spirit shook his head.

Marik grit his teeth; it seemed ridiculous that a demon immoral Spirit had the nerve to be judging him. And yet somehow he was, and succeeding too.

He wasn't going to give Bakura the satisfaction, though. He laughed lightly. "You don't think I can pull it off, Bakura? I'm hurt by your lack of faith,"

"Maybe you'll succeed," Bakura said, and he stepped back, looking Marik up and down like a piece of meat. "In some form,"

Marik thought he should feel uncomfortable, but he was just insulted.

"You make no sense," he scowled.

He could have left at that moment, and he almost wanted to. But he halted when Bakura sank to the ground. He was grimacing a bit.

"What's wrong?" Marik knelt down at once. His hand wavered, but he didn't bother to touch the Spirit. He knew Bakura better than that. "Are you alright?"

"Unfortunately my energy is still rather limited, courtesy of the Pharaoh," Bakura explained, a nasty scowl on his face. "I can't very well help you until I'm returned to my host,"

"Ryou?" Marik remembered the boy lying in the hospital wing of the blimp. He was awake now, but Bakura probably already knew that, with the handy mind link. He blinked at Bakura, who was watching him through narrowed eyes. "Even if you are back in control of Ryou, you can't help me obtain the God Cards anymore. You're out of the contest,"

"I'm not thinking so much about the contest, Marik," Bakura said. He was speaking quietly, like there might be someone else nearby, trying to listen in.

"Then what?" Marik felt impatient. "Are you going to try and get the cards by force? Maybe use some of that infamous thievery of yours?"

Bakura looked amused by the idea, but he shook his head. He stretched thin arms and then lay back on the ground.

"I'm glad you remember that," he said conversationally.

Marik stared at him; "remember what? That you're a thief?"

Bakura nodded.

"You told me, I don't think I'd forget so easily," Marik said.

The floor was as cold as everything else in Bakura's dank Soul Room, but it didn't stop Marik from lying back too. He wouldn't be afraid of the Spirit that was so near to him, and he wasn't. Intrigue was just eating at Marik, like it always did when he was around the Spirit.

"It might come in handy, you know," Marik said, more to himself. "You being a thief, seems appropriate," he considered what he was thinking, then he turned on his side, leaning his head in his hand, so that he was looking at Bakura. "Why do you need all the Millennium items, anyway?"

Bakura rolled his eyes. "How many times have you asked me that, Marik?"

Marik grinned; "I thought the three hundred and twenty second time would be the charm,"

"Well you're horrendously wrong," Bakura kept his gaze ahead, but a smirk twitched on his mouth.

Marik sat up, rubbing his cold back. He'd more or less given up asking Bakura about his intentions for the Millennium items, when all Bakura was prepared to give him was a look which invited slow death. But it couldn't hurt to poke and pester every now and then.

"Well it doesn't matter anyway," Marik looked down at the Spirit, "once I have the God cards I'll be powerful enough without the items,"

Bakura grinned up at him, eyes all devious; "you're so eager to get those cards, aren't you,"

"What's wrong with that? Maybe you should take my lead and be a bit more eager yourself,"

Bakura laughed, one of his sudden, unexpected barks. It reminded Marik of what he was, but it didn't matter because Marik was used to it now.

"Why rush? I'm a spirit, I'm _immortal_. Times on my side,"

"Oh, well I'm sorry, but we can't all be immortal three thousand year old Spirits, you know," Marik intended to sound annoyed, but it came off amused, and he found himself smiling anyway.

To his surprise, Bakura turned onto his side, so he was facing Marik, and he looked amused too.

"It's handy you have the Rod," he said, smirking. "Otherwise I could be taking control of your body right now,"

"You wouldn't," Marik said, but didn't feel all that confident. It suddenly occurred to him that Bakura could probably take control of his body anyway. It wasn't like he had any access to the Rod whilst he was in the Spirit's Soul Room...

He looked at Bakura, a bit horrified at the idea. Bakura seemed to know what he was thinking, and he shook his head, smirking.

"Don't flatter yourself, Marik. I'm not wasting my energy on you,"

Marik rolled his eyes; "charming. Am I supposed to feel flattered, then?"

"Perhaps," Bakura said rather ominously. He sat up after a moment, and Marik thought he looked better for it. "Perhaps it's best you keep the Millennium Ring, after all. I can't imagine I'd be much help to you in Ryou's body, especially considering what might be to come,"

Marik sat up too, the foreboding in Bakura's words getting to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I might be wrong, so you shouldn't worry," the Spirit turned away, annoyingly mysterious.

Marik couldn't even decipher anything from the Spirit's face, not that it would have helped much. Bakura's facial expressions mostly ranged from Death Glare to Sadistic Smirk.

Marik sighed. "I'm leaving now," he said as he stood up.

"Very well," Bakura followed him up, and when he faced Marik there was a hint of apprehension there for a tiny second. "Might you come visit again? I promise to have the place better decorated," he flashed a smirk.

"I'll be back," Marik nodded. "To keep you updated on my progress with the God cards, and of course the time when I've won them all,"

"Confident, aren't we?"

"They will be mine," Marik believed it, despite the Spirit's amused face. "You'll see, Spirit. Next time I'm here I'll have another God card to tell you about,"

"Looking forward to it,"

Marik closed his eyes, teetering upon the edge of the Soul Room. The warmth of the real world was calling and coaxing him back, and he could feel his dark surroundings dissolving away as his concentration fell properly to the real world.

He kept his eyes on Bakura, who faded away into the darkness along with everything else.

When he opened his eyes he was back in his room on the blimp, the Millennium Ring loose but warm in his hands. Odion was eyeing him with some concern.

"Master-"

"What are you doing here?" Marik asked sharply.

The tall man by the door looked like he always did these days, and Marik hated it. All torn and conflicted, fighting a moral battle within his own mind, not that Marik had ever pried there.

"It's nothing, please forgive me, master Marik," Odion bowed apologetically. But his eyes were trained on the item Marik held; "the Ring-"

"-is not your concern," Marik finished. "Yugi and his friends are not to know about this,"

Odion nodded. "Very well,"

Marik watched Odion out the door, and waited a minute or two before looking at the Ring. It was still warm in his hands.

Marik quickly pulled it from his neck. Partners or not, Marik knew better than to trust the Spirit. The cold of the Soul Room lingered in his mind though, along with the Spirit's mostly haughty face.

He'd keep the Spirit close by. It was better like that, and he'd miss the interesting chats and startling smirks otherwise.

888

more stuff: I took some liberties with the powers of the items! I don't know if Marik would be able to enter Bakura's mind like that, but it's sort of essential to my story. I hope it doesn't bother anybody. I may continue this, but I have other stories I need to get back to as well, so updates might be rather slow. Thank you for reading!


	2. Feeding The Dark

**Chapter 2**

**Feeding the Dark**

Bakura sat in his Soul Room, because there was nothing else for him to do.

These humans, they were ridiculous and strange creatures, and mostly Bakura wanted them to disappear, but other times they were not so bad.

Marik was not so bad.

Bakura could listen to Marik for a long time, and he wouldn't get impatient or tired of it. Sometimes he'd even ask Marik a question, and he'd be surprised to find himself actually interested in the answers he got.

Marik had interesting thoughts and words, an aura of the tragic around him. Bakura felt he could latch onto that for some reason. He could do more than tolerate it, he could _enjoy_ it.

Right now he could not sense Marik at all. Bakura supposed the human had chosen not to wear the Ring. Bakura didn't wonder about it, he knew that Marik didn't really know what to think of him yet.

He could feel his strength returning. Soon he'd be strong enough to mend his link with Ryou, and return to his host without Marik's help. He'd tapped into Ryou a couple of times, and the boy was unresponsive for the most part. Maybe he was still unconscious, maybe he just didn't want to hear Bakura.

Bakura did not care about Ryou, though he wanted to know that his host was alright. It wasn't the same thing.

He walked about more impatiently. He was taking Marik's advice to heart, maybe he should be a bit more pro active about all of this.

He sensed the presence in his Soul Room at once, and straightened, looking at the dark rectangle of his Soul Room's door, anticipating his guest.

Marik's presence was familiar and yet felt a little different too.

"You're back rather early,"

"Time doesn't really exist here, does it?" Marik said, an unhappy look on his face.

"Yes it does," Bakura corrected. He watched with a mild interest as Marik walked in the room, agitated about something. Bakura felt the darkness radiating off him; it was warm and fascinating at the same time.

He had felt it around the other before, and now Bakura was drawn to it.

Marik scowled at him; "well it's been a couple of days, if you must know,"

"Any luck?"

"Unfortunately neither myself or Odion have been chosen to participate yet," Marik stood near to Bakura, arms folded.

"Maybe you should try a little patience?" Bakura said, enjoying the strange dark heat that radiated off the other.

Marik sneered; "I'm not _dead,_ as I mentioned before. I don't have all the time in the world like you apparently do," his words were full of disdain. Clearly Marik wasn't in the mood for taunts, not that it would ever phase Bakura.

Bakura grinned and turned on his heel. "Look, I decorated for you," he announced. "I would have thought you'd greet me with at least a smile for my efforts,"

Marik shook his head; "I'm not in the mood for this, Bakura." then he peered round rather doubtfully; "it looks all the same to me,"

"Well, it's a work in progress." Bakura walked away, and was pleased that Marik chose to follow him, even at a reluctant pace. "So tell me, who has been duelling? And what has been the outcome?"

"If you must know, it was Yami and Mai,"

Bakura turned round, prickled with irritation, a natural reaction whenever the Pharaoh was brought up.

"Who won?"

Marik rolled his eyes; "who do you think?"

Bakura growled, he could not help his anger.

He shook his head and took time to compose himself. It was a strange feeling; on the one hand he needed the Pharaoh safe, for reasons he was still not sure of himself, but another part of him, a deeper part, wanted to hurt him so much.

"The Pharaoh is a thorn in both our sides," he muttered, looking at Marik. Their common ground brought him some strange comfort.

He felt the heated agreement coming from Marik, the silent rage of the aura that now accompanied him was growing. Bakura was curious more than anything.

"Yami can get as far as he wants," Marik said. "But it won't change the fact that I will get those cards by the end of all this,"

Bakura felt himself nod, Marik knew what to say to keep his interest, to strengthen his own darkness. He would have to return the favour.

Then something odd happened; Marik turned away and made a strange noise. Bakura half recognised it as frustration, but it wasn't really that, and besides Marik was rubbing his eyes with an arm.

Bakura vaguely recalled such a look in his host Ryou, but he'd never thought on it very much.

He wasn't sure what he should do, although he could feel the darkness of Marik's aura getting harsher now. Little pins of the sensation ran along Bakura as he absorbed it into his soul and tried to make sense of it.

It was an angry emotion, and sad too. It was not unlike the feeling that coursed through Bakura much of the time. But it was very strong, and still it was growing.

Marik was still making the strange quiet sound, and his head was turned away and bowed.

Bakura didn't know what he was supposed to do. Holy Ra, these humans were hard to work with.

He cleared his throat; "Marik?"

Marik turned round very quickly, an uneven smirk on his face. Bakura noticed his glassy eyes.

"Bakura," Marik said, voice unsteady, "I...What are you? Can you describe it?"

"I told you, I'm a thief," Bakura said, relieved that Marik wasn't making that sound anymore, and his face resembled an expression he was used to. "What else do you need to know?"

Marik laughed; and then he grabbed Bakura's arm without warning. He tugged him to the ground, so they were both sitting in front of each other.

"You're cold," Marik remarked.

"Yes," Bakura said, offering him a venomous glare. The warmth of Marik's hand lingered on his arm.

Marik spoke in a rush; "I need to know more about you, I want to be able to trust you,"

Bakura sneered, disliking the desperation that seeped into the other's voice. Human weakness reminded him why he was glad he wasn't one.

"Everything I've told you has been the truth," Bakura said slowly. "I am a thief, the three thousand year old Spirit of a thief, and my goal is to obtain all seven Millennium Items," he gave Marik a cagey look; "of which one of them you still owe me,"

"Yes, yes, I know that," Marik nodded quickly. "But what..._how_ did you become what you are now?"

Bakura glared, but not at Marik. He glared through him and focussed on the darkness of his Soul Room. He had searched it before, but it had always been mixed up and had never provided him with a clear answer. Now was no different.

He blinked back at Marik, noticing the human was watching him hopefully.

"I have told you everything, Marik,"

"I see," Marik looked disappointed. He shifted a bit and seemed thoughtful. "Well. Perhaps I will take your word, for now,"

"My word?" Bakura frowned.

"I'll trust you, for the moment,"

Bakura laughed, feeling spiteful. "Haven't we already come too far for you to be casting doubts about me now?"

"I'm not doubting you, I'm saying I trust you," Marik paused, and he looked at his hands. "At least I will for the moment,"

Bakura raised a brow. He couldn't say he was shocked, because humans never failed to perplex him, and he'd come to expect it. But he was...intrigued. Wasn't trust a valuable human thing? He looked up at the nonexistent ceiling of his Soul Room, trying to recall a memory that might tell him so.

There was nothing but the darkness of course, not that Bakura had expected anything else.

"Bakura?" Marik was waving a hand in his face.

Bakura blinked and scowled at the human.

"You trust me?" he asked.

Marik's eyes were narrowed, and he seemed to be debating the idea in his mind. Humans were complicated.

"Yes," Marik nodded finally. "Until you do something to show otherwise,"

Bakura was right, humans were very ignorant things. He wondered why they could be so blind. And yet Bakura was compelled to warn this human anyway;

"I don't want to disappoint you, Marik," he half sighed, and leaned forwards a bit. "I'm sure you don't need me to remind you of what I am,"

"You already told me. A three thousand year old Spirit, and a thief. That's all I need to know, right?" Marik leaned forward too, inviting elaboration from the Spirt.

Bakura held his gaze for a moment; feeling the human presence bouncing all about him, and mingling with his darkness. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling. He realised he was letting Marik past his barriers, and with it he was gaining access to Marik's own.

He had felt human presence before, mostly through Ryou, but this one was different. There was something else, and it gripped Bakura's essence and was almost painful as it danced about inside of him.

Such a great unknown power, and not yet realised...

"Bakura! Are you ok?"

"Hmm?" Bakura came to himself, and realised his elbows were on the ground, and he was leaning back, panting a bit. He hauled himself upright and caught the confusion on Marik's face.

"What was that?" the human said. His arms were raised, as though he might have grabbed Bakura but then had thought better of it. Bakura was charmed that Marik might know him that well.

He shook his head as the darkness fell away. Marik's strange aura was ebbing off, although Bakura knew it wouldn't be a permanent retreat. The remnants of it seemed to hover about Bakura, making him feel light headed.

"You're shaking," Marik said, still with that confused face. He moved closer, and Bakura moved back instinctually.

"I feel fine," Bakura told him, and it wasn't a lie.

Something was within Marik, and whatever it was made Bakura feel stronger, if only for a few seconds. It was another darkness.

"Well if you're sure," Marik sounded uncertain. He was watching Bakura with those annoying wide eyes, all human and full of an emotion Bakura did not want to associate with. It was that which had driven away the darkness, Bakura knew.

He studied the human. "Are _you_ alright, Marik?"

"Huh?" the human sagged back, vulnerable and useless. Bakura hated that. "I'm okay." he paused, and then; "Huh. No, I'm not."

Bakura curled his knees up to his chin, sparing the human a sideways look. He wanted him to continue. Marik seemed to understand.

"When I told you I wanted the power of the Pharaoh, I didn't tell you why, did I?"

"I don't think so,"

"It's because I'm entitled to it," Marik looked determined. "The Pharaoh's existence has only caused my own misery, and I didn't choose the role I was given,"

"What was your role?" Bakura was curious.

"I am descended from a line of tomb keepers, and it was to be my duty to guard the Pharaoh's tomb," Marik smiled wryly at Bakura. "Imagine what my sister would think! To see me working with a tomb robber!"

"It's ironic, isn't it?" Bakura smiled..

"Yes, just a bit," Marik looked grim, and pulled out a heavy sigh. "Only my adopted brother was on my side, but that's okay, since now I have another to help me,"

It took Bakura a moment to realise that Marik was talking about him. He cleared his throat, giving the ex-tomb keeper a quizzical look. Humans had trust inbuilt, it must be an instinctual thing, a need to latch onto someone, anyone, and place reckless faith in them.

Bakura had no problem with humans doing that, so long as it wouldn't affect his own plans.

He didn't say a word as Marik faded away from his Soul Room again, although he tried to cling onto the darkness that had been there for a short while. But it was all gone, not a trace of it left. If anything, Marik had left the Soul Room in a happier, lighter mood.

Bakura grimaced, curled sharp nails into his palms. It wouldn't have been so bad, if only he knew if this was a good thing or not.

He glared about his Soul Room. "Are you going to torment me like this forever?" his voice echoed back at him, and Bakura laughed shortly. "As I thought,"

88

Marik had not meant to show weakness in front of the Spirit. Right now he was hating himself for it, but hating himself even more for sitting between Yugi and Tea and pretending to be 'Namu'.

The strain of the facade was getting to him, despite how close he was to the God cards. He'd even held Slifer in his hand! And Yugi had been so pleased and happy to show it to him. If only he knew...

He excused himself quickly following the announcement of the next two contestants; Odion and Joey, and confronted Odion in the corridor just outside his bedroom.

"Are you ready for the duel tomorrow?" he asked quickly.

"Yes," Odion nodded.

"You'll win," Marik told him, leaving no room for argument.

He slipped into his room and hurried to the Ring. He held it tight in his hands; he didn't know when Bakura had become his confidant, but now he had and Marik didn't care about caution anymore. He placed it round his neck and entered the Soul Room without fear.

Bakura was waiting for him, and was not very good with his promises.

"The decor is still lousy,"

"I'm working on it," Bakura said.

Marik couldn't hold the Spirit's gaze today. He still felt rather embarrassed for breaking down a little before, and now he was wondering if he had been very wise to tell the thief as much as he had.

But he wanted to trust him.

"How is my host?" Bakura said with nonchalance.

Marik gave him a funny look, he wasn't used to Bakura being concerned.

"I'm not concerned," Bakura said, as though reading his mind. "But our link has been dormant for a while now, and you can understand I need the body,"

"It's been a week," Marik informed. He flopped down on the Soul Room floor, inviting the coolness against his stomach. "Ryou is fine. I guess he just isn't that chatty with psychotic ex-tomb robbers, hmm?"

Bakura slouched against the stony wall of his Soul Room, face unreadable; "I'm not psychotic," he said, like a child.

Marik rolled onto his back, looking up at the Spirit.

"You know, I still think you should have left Ryou to Yami. You know he wouldn't have attacked him,"

"You think so?" Bakura pushed away from the wall, and stalked about like a restless cat. "It wasn't a safe bet. At least my plan ensured my host's safety,"

"Do you care about him?" Marik had asked before he could stop himself.

Bakura stopped walking but didn't turn round; "we've been through this, Marik-"

"Yeah, I know, I know. You just did it to save your body-"

"You don't know the Pharaoh," Bakura said impatiently.

Marik sat up with interest. "Do you really think he would have hit Ryou?"

"Maybe," Bakura glared at the ground. "But with his host it's a different story. Yugi might have influenced him, made him think about what he was doing,"

Marik hesitated in his next question, he might be pushing it. "Has...has Ryou ever tried to influence _you_?"

Bakura laughed harshly; "do you think I'm so weak? My host has no power over me at all. Unlike the Pharaoh and Yugi, who like to think they're some sort of team, I have no use for my host,"

"But you and Yam-, the Pharaoh I mean, you're both Spirits? Doesn't that make you similar?"

"Hardly, and don't compare me to him, Marik,"

"Sorry," Marik pulled a face. "But you're saying Yami is influenced by Yugi, sometimes for the better?"

"It wouldn't take much," Bakura snorted. "The Pharaoh always was a pompous, arrogant man. I wonder how he feels now, trapped in that diminutive little body of Yugi's, trapped in that puzzle..."

"You're not doing much better," Marik pointed out, only because he was fairly sure he could get away with it.

He was right, Bakura just scowled and started walking like a demented cat again.

Marik sat in the welcomed silence for a while, occasionally looking at Bakura, who seemed to be quietly fuming. Marik knew that sulk rather well now, he could even feel it in the Soul Room. A dark blackness edging all around him, telling him that the Spirit was crankier than usual.

Marik was getting familiar with the feeling without being in the Ring at all, though. It had been creeping around him the past few days, and he thought he could recall it from a memory long blocked out if he concentrated hard enough. He'd not had the time to concentrate though, and he didn't want to dwell on it.

Whatever it was, it was like a sick feeling, like something was toying with his head, trying to decide where to plant a permanent headache. A couple of times he had to lie down and sleep the feeling away. He'd told Yugi he was just nervous about the upcoming duels.

He'd not told Bakura anything about it. There was no need to, really. He didn't expect Bakura would care...

Realising that, Marik suddenly felt rather cold. He blinked up at the Spirit.

Bakura was watching him again, that old smirk in place.

Maybe Bakura already knew. For some reason the thought did not surprise Marik. He suddenly felt tired. Tomorrow was a big day, and Bakura's Soul Room was dangerously addictive.

"The next duel is between Odion and Joey Wheeler," he told Bakura as he stood, posed to leave.

"Ah, your fake self," Bakura looked amused. "Send him my good luck wishes, won't you,"

"He won't need them, but I'll tell him anyway,"

Marik glanced up at the pin prick of light, the gateway to consciousness in the real world. For an odd moment he wanted to stay in the Soul Room; his body constricting inside, and stinging with the sensations of the darkness he felt with recent headaches and too much time in Bakura's presence.

For a startling second it was suffocating, and he blinked, catching Bakura's curved smile in front of him.

He opened his eyes to find himself lying back on the bed and breathing heavily. He sat up with a groan and pulled the Ring off his neck. It was burning! He dropped it on the bed and glared pointlessly at it.

"Who's in a mood?" he muttered, remembering Bakura's nasty smile.

Perhaps he should stop visiting for a while.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in,"

Yugi entered with a grin; "hey Namu, it's Joey and Odion's duel, are you coming to watch?" the boys expression fell into concern; "did you get any sleep last night?"

"What?" Marik looked at the clock at his bedside. Tomorrow was today? He rubbed his eyes, "er, just give me a minute, Yugi,"

"Ok. Er, maybe bring some coffee,"

"Thanks for the tip," Marik forced a smile. He waited until Yugi's foot steps had faded down the corridor before digging the Ring from under the bed covers.

"You made me sleep over and miss a day," he sighed; "worse, you made me look like a zombie. Stupid thief,"

He hesitated, then put the ring round his neck. He may as well let Bakura watch this duel too, and see how superfluous his good luck wishes really were.

888


	3. Torments Release

**Chapter 3 **

**Torments Release**

Marik had never spoken to Bakura's host Ryou before. So it was sort of strange to be talking to him now. He was like Bakura on a nonexistent good day, drugged with happy pills; all wide eyed, friendly and without the demon hair.

"Would you like some?" He beamed, putting a coffee cup in Marik's hand before he could decline, "Yugi told me you had a rough night,"

"It wasn't exactly comfortable," Marik thought of Bakura's Soul Room.

They were all stood outside on the blimp's ridiculously high Duellist platform. The wind was batting around, attacking their faces and making them shiver. Seto Kaiba had unusual ideas about comfort, but that probably wasn't the intention anyway.

Marik scowled in the CEO's general direction. Another keeper of a God card, another person to get through.

"I'm not very keen on him, either," Ryou confided, close to his ear. "But it's his blimp, I suppose. And I've never even been on one before," his voice rose with childish excitement.

Ryou looked pale and it was telling of what he had been through in the past couple of weeks. He'd only just emerged from inside the blimp, after a week of confusion and unconsciousness. He didn't remember anything of the recent duels to get into the finals, but he seemed healthy enough, and his arm was healing ok.

Marik remembered the look of relish on Bakura's face, as he'd driven the knife into the arm, embracing pain. There had been more blood than Marik had expected, and even though they'd barely met, he'd been worried and wondered why Bakura would do that to himself.

At that time he hadn't know the Spirit just occupied the body, but when he'd finally figured it out he hadn't felt much in the way of sympathy for Ryou.

Now, looking at the reluctant host, he did feel a bit. It couldn't be easy, housing something like Bakura.

"Have you had any luck finding your ring, Ryou?" he decided to ask.

Ryou looked at him, unease flashing his face; "Er, no. No luck, if that's what it is," he laughed. Marik raised a brow.

"Would you rather it stay lost, then?"

"Wouldn't you? It's not much fun being possessed by a demon...spirit, whatever it is," Ryou rubbed his injured arm, "to be honest I hope I never see the damn thing again. Good riddance,"

Marik rolled the coffee around in it's cup, watching the blackness edging at the sides. "Did you know the spirit might have saved you? In the duel against Yugi, I mean,"

"Did it?" Ryou sounded disinterested. He was watching the duel platform, where Odion and Joey were taking their places and shuffling their decks. "I suppose I should be grateful, but I'm not," He shivered as he turned to face Marik. "I don't sense it, whatever it is, very much. But sometimes it talks to me. To be honest I can hardly concentrate on what it says most of the time. There's this feeling, like cold, all around me. Just thinking about it makes me feel it again,"

Marik tried to look surprised, though he knew that feeling very well. It was the sum of Bakura's Soul Room, the coldness, the darkness. The very feeling that had laced into himself now, giving him the unwanted headaches. Bakura was contagious.

"I'm sorry, I just can't be grateful to something like that," Ryou carried on, voice all soft. "It possessed me with little or no warning at all. It attempted to send my friends to the Shadows one time...If Yugi had not defeated it, I dread to think what would have happened," Ryou was suddenly angry; "It made me_ afraid _to see my friends, afraid to do anything, cos of what I might do! I'd hope the damn thing was destroyed."

Marik pretended to consider that; "do you think it is?"

"I know it's not. I can feel it tapping into my head," Ryou smiled weakly, "I'm getting better at blocking it off though, and without access to my mind the Ring can't return to me."

Marik felt the Ring under his shirt, emitting a faint heat. Bakura was agitated, Marik could sense it. But their link was closed; Bakura would have to use force if he had ideas about possessing either Ryou or Marik. Marik just hoped Bakura could understand at least a little about their little trust talk.

"I'm so sorry, gibbering on about voices in my head and strange rings. You really must think I'm insane. And er, not very good company,"

"Not at all," Marik grinned, more for the fact that it was so strange to see such a sweet and harmless look on "Bakura's" face. Marik would never get used to that. "Gibber away. It's not every day someone gets possessed by evil forces."

Ryou smiled, and looked impossibly sweeter; "I'd agree with you, but conveniently we have Yugi and his other self too."

Marik smirked around his coffee cup; "Your gang has a habit of attracting evil, spirit-y weirdos, doesn't it?"

"Obviously we've got Spiritual magnetism," Ryou grinned, but quickly fell back into seriousness; "Yugi's spirit is good though,"

He sounded so certain, and yet Marik remembered Bakura's sharp words in his mind, about pompous, arrogant Pharaohs.

"Trust me to get stuck with the damaged one."

Marik blinked up from his coffee, realising Ryou was talking about Bakura.

Seto Kaiba's voice commanded the arena at that moment, signalling the duel was about to begin. With the Millennium Rod tucked inconspicuously within a long trouser pocket, Marik found Odion's mind and spoke through it;

"_The Spirit sends his good luck wishes,"_

Odion peered at him, and to anyone else it would look like a fleeting glance. Marik saw the apprehension on his adopted brothers face though. Odion did not trust the Spirit and he sensed it's darkness, although he'd never attempted to reason with Marik about it.

Marik thought that was just as well, he already knew what Odion thought and Odion never convinced Marik of anything.

If he had, they wouldn't be in this situation right now.

88

Within the Ring, Bakura sat curling his toes and occasionally feeling the faint darkness of his newest owner hovering around his Soul Room.

Yes, it was definitely a new darkness, and it was getting stronger by the minute. Bakura's stomach clenched with excitement whenever it rippled particularly forcefully around him, like a rough gale of emotion.

Marik had not yet opened their link, not that Bakura blamed him. Still, he was quite intrigued that Marik had chose to trust him. Of all things to choose.

Bakura shook his head, amused. His connection with Ryou was fixed, although he still couldn't reach his host's mind. It was closed off well enough, but that wouldn't stop Bakura. He knew with a little focus he could get to Ryou by force.

For now though he was quite happy around Marik's neck. The tomb keepers presence was both warm and cold, a conflicting mix of sensations that played havoc with Bakura's mind, unless he focussed on one or the other.

On the one hand he could listen to Marik's words about motorbikes, his laugh that was human but somehow amusing, and the hand that touched his arm that had felt warm. All these things warmed something inside of Bakura, though he hardly knew what it was.

The fierce ripple of dark waves that danced hungrily about him right now were the other hand. These were the seeds of darkness that Bakura could be most familiar with; swarms of agitation, anger, real hate. These things made Bakura twist with delight and forget about anything else.

He inhaled the darkness. It was stinging and wonderful all at once, and it fed him and promised him something special. He couldn't know what that was yet though. That was the gamble.

"Am I supposed to help you, Marik?" Bakura spoke through their link, even though he knew Marik had shut him off. "I can see your potential, but I'm not sure how to bring it out."

He searched the ceiling of his Soul Room, where the swarm of darkness had settled for a while into a black cloud. It went round in circles, every now and then swooping down to envelope Bakura, before whirling back up to the ceiling again.

It had grown so much, perhaps all Bakura needed to do was wait.

"Bakura?" Marik's voice echoed off the walls, breaking through the Spirit's link and his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"The duel is beginning, I'm going to give you access to my link so you can watch for yourself," there was a pause, "no tricks, ok?"

"Of course not," Bakura promised, remembering trust and the strange warmth.

The swarm of dark hummed noisily above, before swooping back down at him again. Bakura shielded himself this time and the darkness fell away and thinned out a little as it flew back to the ceiling.

"Interesting," Bakura said to himself.

"Bakura? Are you talking to yourself again? And you tell me you're not psychotic."

"I don't think that's a sign of being psychotic," Bakura grinned at the invisible Marik voice.

Remembering the link was now open, he concentrated on Marik's presence as he did often enough with Ryou. He could see through Marik's minds eye, and there before him was the duelling platform, Odion and Joey occupying either side just as Marik had said.

"You gave him the fake Rod," Bakura was impressed.

"Don't act too surprised, I'm not as moronic as you might think."

"I don't think you're moronic," Bakura considered; "just rather...stupid sometimes."

"I didn't know you cared," Marik sounded very sarcastic.

"Well you're only human. We can't all be perfect," Bakura turned to gaze at the pale boy stood near to Marik.

His host was slurping on pink milkshake and looking cheerful considering everything he'd been through. Bakura was surprised that his host might be so unpredictable. He'd not so much hoped it, but he had expected Ryou to be moping about somewhere in a dark room.

Then again people, _humans_, were confusing things, Bakura was already learning. All bets were off when it came to them.

"My moneys on the blonde one," Bakura told Marik through their link.

"You don't have any money," Marik pointed out.

"Remind me to owe it you if I lose, which I won't."

"Where are you going to get the money? Hiding under one of the rocks in your cosy little Soul Room?" Marik asked. Bakura could tell he was grinning.

"I've acquired an interesting new bit of decor, that might stop your complaining," Bakura said, eyeing the angry black cloud on his ceiling, "next time you visit you must tell me what you think of it."

"Oh? Some flowers and a tv set, maybe? You know I love to watch the racing."

Bakura thought he knew, but it was sometimes hard to dig out the memories from within himself for some reason. He thought hard, clawed at the part of his mind which was warmer, and then recalled Marik's bright face telling him about motorbikes and tv shows.

Not that it mattered. He pulled a face; "there aren't any flowers or tv's in my Soul Room, Marik,"

"Aw, I'm disappointed," Marik sounded like he might be pouting. "Next time I visit I'm going to expect a tv. With cable," he added as an afterthought.

"I see you're rather assuming about the availability of my Soul Room, aren't you?" Bakura pretended to be annoyed. He wasn't, and he wasn't sure why.

"It's not like you're having a 24 hour party in there, is it?" Marik said cheekily.

"True, but my host might be starting to miss me," Bakura looked back at Ryou, who looked silly and far too concerned about cheering on Joey Wheeler.

Oh, the Duel. Bakura had almost forgotten.

"Have you only just noticed?" Marik asked, reading his thoughts.

Bakura cursed and closed his mind for a few seconds. Marik was far too distracting. It should have been much more annoying than it was.

He retreated a little back into his Soul Room, but kept close enough to Marik's open link so that he could see the Duel in front of them.

The swarm of Marik's unknown essence was still humming loudly, like it had been disturbed by Bakura's brief communication with the tomb keeper. Bakura gave it a guarded look;

"What are you so worked up about? You should thank me for letting you stay here."

The clouds hums lulled a bit, and wove a brief and concentrated circle around Bakura, almost like it was scanning him, searching for something.

"You're very impatient. Not that I'd expect any less, considering who made you," Bakura said wryly, and thought about Marik.

88

The buzzing in the back of Marik's mind had been getting slowly more pronounced. He couldn't pin it on the Spirit of the Ring though, since it had been there before, when those strange headaches were poking about.

"Strawberry milkshake, Namu?" Ryou asked. "It's my favourite."

"_Strawberry milkshake? I'm ashamed to call him my host."_

Luckily Marik had a ridiculous Ryou and sniping thief to keep him distracted from the buzzing.

"Thank you, Ryou," Marik took the shake, and then nudged at his link to Bakura; _"You're just mad you're not getting free drinks."_

Bakura huffed, but didn't say anything else. Marik grinned, winding up the Spirit was always fun, and it distracted from the buzzing more than anything.

"You're looking much better!" Ryou must have noticed him grinning. "I'm glad you could see the duel. We all want to see Marik go down."

"Oh, er, yes," Marik looked at the platform. He wasn't worried; he knew all of Odion's cards and he had a secret weapon which he'd not even told Bakura about. In the back of his mind he could hear the thief yawning.

"_This duel is very boring. If it's a strategy he might make it an interesting one."_

"_That doesn't matter, he's pretending to be me, remember? And you don't know what's to come."_

"_Oh?"_

Marik felt Bakura perk up with proper interest. He smiled to himself and said nothing else. Bakura and everyone else would find out soon enough.

Currently Joey was goading Odion, which was rich considering how low the boys Life Points were. For all appearances it looked like Odion would win, and Marik was fine with that, even if it meant his secret weapon wasn't going to come to light. A shame.

It took all Marik's effort not to smirk and keep up his mask of support for the blonde. In Marik's head, Bakura was sniggering. Alright for some.

He had to grab the nearby rail when he felt the spiky link between himself and the Spirit spark.

"_Bakura?" _He spoke cautiously. Was this the beginning of an unwanted possession?

"_The Pharaoh is here,"_ Bakura returned.

Marik turned casually to see the tall, confident form replacing what had been Yugi a few moments ago. Yami was cheering Joey on, and Marik could feel Bakura's seething, the Ring against Marik's chest burning a bit.

"_You can sense him when he appears? How, Bakura?"_

"_Does it matter?" _Bakura said waspishly. _"We're both ancient Spirits, we both live within Millennium Items. I suppose a connection is inevitable."_

"_So you're more alike than you think." _Marik said.

"_In some ways," _Bakura sounded like he wanted to stab something.

Marik focussed back on the duel, and found himself happy to mix hate with hate when it came to Yami. The Pharaoh's advice to Joey seemed to have had an effect, and Odion was taking a beating up there.

"_You'd better have that money ready. I don't think your fake is up to the task,"_ Bakura commented.

"_He will be,"_ Marik glared up at his adopted brother, watching him draw his next card. The shock that crossed the other's face told Marik that he shouldn't worry.

_88_

"_The Winged Dragon Of Ra? You're full of surprises, Marik," _Bakura spoke mostly to the darkness.

The dark cloud was crawling everywhere now, gathering a fierce momentum.

"_Odion holds a fake version,"_ Marik told him, voice bouncing around the Soul Room abstractly. _"You know I'm not stupid enough to use the real one,"_

Bakura supposed he wasn't, and went back to gazing at the black swarm of his ceiling.

It was fascinating, more so than anything else. He sat and watched it grow, thicker and bigger, louder and more unbearable.

Distantly, Bakura could hear Marik yelling. What was he yelling? Bakura was finding their link harder to reach for some reason, like static on a tv with bad reception.

"_They're beginning to suspect...He needs to draw the card to prove he is me..."_

Oh, the Winged Dragon again. A duel. Bakura could barely remember. It seemed like a memory that belonged to another person. Perhaps he should watch the God come to life. But why bother? Faced one, faced them all...

He went back to watching the smog of dark, eyes gleaming.

_88_

Ryou had been enjoying his second coffee and third milkshake when things started to get a bit strange. He'd almost spat out his drink when the Winged Dragon of Ra had been summoned, and nearly choked on it when the bright lightning had started stabbing the blimp at random moments.

Namu, who was nice but rather quiet, gave him an absent pat on the back. Mostly his shoulder. Ryou had a feeling he was somewhat distracted.

He'd never seen a God card in action before, except that brief moment in his last duel with Yugi and Slifer. That hardly counted with him being possessed and thinking he was having crazy hallucinations most of the time.

Now he stared up at the Winged Dragon in awe. It was very frightening.

"Are those...lightning type things supposed to be happening? Because it definitely looks like a safety hazard,"

"I'm really not sure," Namu looked concerned too, even more so when Ryou studied him properly. There was a thin layer of perspiration on the others face, and his eyes were wide and very dilated.

Ryou wondered if he'd maybe offered him too much coffee.

"It's not obeying," Namu said, sounding distressed. "The God card isn't obeying him!"

"Er, yay?" Ryou suggested; "we don't really want Joey getting fried by terrifying dragon Gods, do we?"

Namu didn't appear to be hearing him. His eyes were trained ahead, and he gasped as a slice of lightning suddenly broke onto the platform, targeting Odion. The man staggered as the Rod shattered in his hands, then he collapsed.

88

The buzzing dark swirled around like temptation. Bakura stood up and raised his arms, inviting it all to coil around him and invade his being. Now the buzzing was in his ears, making them ring. He wouldn't hear Marik now, he didn't want to.

This human's other half, his intriguing darkness, was coming to life, and Bakura watched, entranced, as the cloud began to form a circling abyss. His Soul Room was screaming, and the screams had little identity because they sounded inhuman.

Bakura laughed, even as he fell forward, the dark was suffocating but it didn't worry him. It was clenching his chest and making him crawl, on hands and knees, toward the abyss.

A voice, or maybe it was just a thought, called to him. Bakura imagined it had frightened and violet eyes.

He stopped crawling, squinting through blackness, trying to seek out the source. It was a warmth he'd remember at any other time, but right now it was just a sensation and nothing else. The roar of the dark was too loud.

Bakura shrugged, turning back to his new goal. The abyss was magnetic and promised him great things.

He was so near. He reached out a hand, fingertips touching the curves of smoke, and stinging with the touch.

88

"That's not a good sign, is it?" Ryou gripped the rail, like it might decide to save him.

Next to him Namu was trembling too. That was good, Ryou didn't feel too bad for being rather scared out of his mind then.

They both watched as Joey ran to help Odion, but was struck down himself.

"Is this part of the duel?" Ryou asked, horrified.

Namu was whimpering unhelpfully, so Ryou looked past him to see that Yugi and everyone else seemed to be sharing the same horrified thoughts. Tristan was clambering to get on the platform, and Kaiba was yelling at him to stop.

The two figures on the platform were still for the longest time, but it was Joey who got up first and was decided the winner of the dangerous duel. The blonde rushed to help the one they all thought was Marik, and Ryou felt uneasy as the man slowly came round, dazed and raising a shaking hand.

"I am the servant of him, the real Marik," the clearly very crazy man said, pointing at Namu, who Ryou knew was nice and quiet, if a bit of a chicken.

He turned to tell Namu to ignore ridiculous accusations he might be a psycho, but the words died in his throat.

Namu was clutching his head, the Millennium Rod was on the floor glowing, and the screaming was unbearable. Yugi and his friends were watching in horror, as Namu seemed to be fighting against something inside of him, something inside his head...

Ryou looked instinctually at Namu's chest, and saw the glowing circular object beneath the shirt with an angry realisation.

Namu's face was contorting in a mix of fear and agony, but Ryou didn't think about it. He leapt forwards and wrenched at the Ring, snatching it off Namu's neck, cutting the string. He stumbled back and fell over, the Ring hot in his hand.

Ryou stared up, along with everyone else, as the form that had been Namu raised his head.

Blonde hair stuck up like knives, shoulders broad and pulsing newfound muscle, and a hellish smile;

"Heh. I am the real Marik, Dark Marik,"

_88_

Bakura had hesitated too long. He watched the black abyss slip from his reach like water rushing down a sink.

Suddenly everything was deathly silent, very cold, and just as it always was before. Bakura heard a whimper somewhere to his left. He didn't need to turn round to know it was Marik.

8

The tomb keeper was curled up in the middle of his Soul Room, making the noise Bakura remembered as strange and uncomfortable.

Now that the swarm had gone Bakura felt oddly drained and disappointed. Where were his promised things? Why had the darkness left him?

He turned reluctantly to the tomb keeper. How weak he looked.

"Marik?"

The tomb keeper did not react, his back was to Bakura and his body was still trembling. Bakura did not like to look at it. He tilted his head away and looked at a stone wall.

"Are you alright, Marik?" Bakura asked the wall.

Marik made a choked sound, a sob, probably. He didn't seem keen to talk.

Bakura did not know how he was supposed to react; this was all very irritating and impractical, though.

He knelt down by the human. "Am I supposed to leave you to your snivelling and wait till you feel better?"

It took a moment, but Marik turned around to face Bakura. Bakura saw the wet, upset eyes of the tomb keeper and his stomach twisted.

"Marik?" he repeated quietly. He didn't know why his voice should sound so weak.

Marik rubbed his eyes, his chest was shuddering. Bakura watched it with a detached fascination. To breathe and be human, to have to do these strange things, it seemed pointless to him.

He spoke into the silence; "I saw your darkness,"

Marik stopped wiping his eyes, stared at the Spirit. "what did you say?" he sounded frightened.

"Your darkness is very great," Bakura said in a matter of fact sort of way, "I sensed it, I thought I did, from the first moment you entered my Soul Room," he paused, giving Marik a puzzled look; "don't tell me you never felt it inside of you?"

Marik kept staring at the Spirit, gaze glassy with tears. "I don't know what you mean," his voice was unsteady now. "What are you talking about, Bakura?"

Bakura frowned. Why were humans so ignorant!

"Your darkness was all around my Soul Room, it has been trying to get out for a while now. You should be pleased, it's very powerful."

"Pleased?" Marik repeated blankly.

Bakura nodded, feeling impatient. "Yes."

Marik blinked, and then his mouth fell into a scowl;

"_Pleased?_" he rushed at Bakura without warning, grabbing the Spirit by the collar and shaking him violently. "I've lost my_ body_! I've just lost _everything_! To that thing you're saying I should be _pleased_ about!" Marik panted, his face so close Bakura could see himself in the violet eyes.

The Spirit was confused more than anything;

"Why did you fight it? You could have been so powerful-" he coughed as the back of his head connected with the ground, and then he realised Marik had punched him hard in the mouth. He licked his lip, tasting the warmth of blood there.

"Stupidthief," Marik hissed. He turned away, rubbing an arm roughly over his face. "How could I...why did I even_ think_ of coming back here?" he gazed all about the Soul Room, and looked truly despairing. "I shouldn't have...what have I done?"

Bakura sat up lazily, wiping his split lip. He noticed Marik's hands curled into tight trembling fists.

"You've just released your darkness, Marik."

"Shut up," Marik said dangerously.

"Why are you so upset?"

"Wh..why am I upset?" Marik repeated, full of shock. He shook his head; "You can't understand..."

"What do you mean?" Bakura asked with genuine wonder.

"_Look_ at you," Marik was incredulous, and gestured at Bakura with wild arms. "You're a Spirit, you're not alive, you're not even _human_! Why should I have expected any understanding...any help from you?"

Bakura glared; "I _was _helping you,"

"What? _How_?"

"I was helping to release your darkness, and it succeeded! Don't tell me I wasn't helping you!" Bakura didn't realise he was standing until he noticed Marik standing up too, levelling with him. Bakura had not felt this sort of anger before, it made his essence pang and twist in confusion; "Youshould be _thanking_ me! After all, I let it into my Soul Room! I let it grow!"

Marik looked disbelieving, he was shaking his head. He laughed, and it sounded high and unnatural, echoing in the coldness.

"You don't get it, do you? I don't want _this_, I don't want your stupid darkness! I want revenge on the Pharaoh and nothing else!" Marik's eyes were suddenly earnest and hopeless on the Spirit. "You can't understand that?"

Bakura kept glaring, but inside his mind was whirring like a broken tape. He'd never felt so confused about a question before. He felt like Marik was trying to pull something out of him he didn't even know he had.

"I-" he looked around, searching his Soul Room, which was useless and redundant, as usual. "I _can't _understand," he snarled, fingers breaking into his palms.

"Clearly," Marik's voice was hard and like ice.

Bakura turned away, he didn't know what to say. Marik was hugging his knees up to his chest, staring at the ground like it was his worst enemy. Pathetic like Bakura had come to expect every human to be, and weak in a way that made Bakura want to help.

He wasn't sure why Marik was here, but he knew that it wasn't supposed to happen like that. He concentrated on the Ring and sensed at once it was loose. There was no mingling there, none of the essence of Marik that Bakura had become so familiar and agreeable with.

"You can't possess me, Spirit," Marik said nastily. "I have no body to possess."

"I'm figuring that out," Bakura growled. He shook his head, breaking away from a link that wasn't there anymore. "It seems your darkness took your body, then."

Marik looked up at him; "you say it like it's nothing."

Bakura shrugged.

Marik sniffed, he was still all wet on his face and shaking a bit like humans tended to do, but Bakura thought he'd survive ok.

"Since I'm separated from my body, I suppose I'm just a soul now, right?"

"That's right."

"Then how do I get it back? I won't let it be taken by that-that whatever it is."

"Your darkness," Bakura smirked despite everything.

"_My_ darkness?" Marik said softly. "I had no darkness, Bakura. It's _you_, you brought it out of me," he stared through Bakura; "and now I'm trapped in your Soul Room. That was a good trick, Spirit. I should have seen it coming, really."

Bakura didn't bother denying it, Marik was a stubborn human and there was little point.

He focussed on another link, willing it to be open.

"Stupid host," he muttered, finding it was completely closed off.

Marik laughed, eyes still shining with tears; "Ryou won't listen to you! He hates you, probably as much as I do right now!"

Bakura gritted his teeth, focussing on the link even harder, if only to spite Marik. He could break through with force, his host had always been weak...

The barrier didn't budge, it was a solid block of disconnection. Bakura cursed quietly, but loud enough for Marik to hear.

Marik was laughing almost hysterically now, rocking on his knees.

Bakura shook his head; "I don't know what you're so happy about. He's the only chance you've got to get your damn body back."

88

Notes: so this is where the chapters get longer! Sorry there was lots of confusing mind linkage happening here. I had a few problems trying to link up Bakura with Y Marik's eventual release. I hope it wasn't too confusing and repetitive. Next chapter we'll be seeing more of Marik's bad self ;)


	4. Host, Spirit, Soul

**Chapter 4 **

**Host, Spirit, Soul**

Ryou managed to stuff the Millennium Ring in his jacket pocket just before Yugi-or maybe Yami- pulled him back.

"Are you okay?" a voice murmured; it was Yami.

Ryou nodded; "yes," and he backed up with everyone else who was watching the figure watching all of them, confusion stricken all across their faces.

"You're Marik?" Yami said, his voice much braver than Ryou's could have been in that moment.

The person calling himself Marik tilted his head; it would have looked endearing on almost anyone else, but now it looked creepy. Ryou felt himself budging nearer to Yami.

"I am the real Marik, his better half, the one who can complete the task that he failed to do."

"You want my God card, and my Puzzle," Yami realised.

The one called Marik nodded only slightly, his mouth curving a slow smirk.

Ryou was mostly wondering why nobody cared to ask how Namu-Marik-whatever his name was, had suddenly changed so drastically. That had been weird, perhaps more scary than a malfunctioning God card.

"You want a God card you'll have to duel for it, like everyone else," Kaiba spoke up. The CEO was standing a little way back from everyone else, arms folded and entirely unimpressed by what he was looking at. Things like this didn't seem to phase Kaiba very much, Ryou remembered.

Marik looked at Kaiba, amused and curious. "I will duel then."

Tea cleared her throat; she was holding Yami's shoulder, because he looked like he might go for this new Marik at any moment. "Er, are you saying the tournament is still on? Because considering all that's just happened..."

Joey scowled at Kaiba; "Trust you. We've got freaky transformations, people getting struck by lightning, but card games are still the way to go, right?" he was still holding the fake Marik upright, who looked completely unconscious now.

"This is still my tournament," Kaiba growled, his eyes on Marik. "It will go on until we've determined a winner." He glanced at Yami, expecting a response.

He was right, and Yami looked furious; "this is ridiculous, Kaiba. After all that's happened-"

"This blimp is staying in the air, so unless you can think of a way to get off on your own, I'm afraid you have no choice but to finish the tournament, along with everyone else," Kaiba turned on his heel, leaving no room for argument.

"That's real mature, Kaiba," Joey snorted.

"You go through to the next round, Wheeler," Kaiba said, with his best dismissive voice; "you'd better be ready incase you have to face that freak."

Nobody needed to know he was referring to the new, strange Marik that stood vaguely smirking between them all. He held the Millennium Rod in his hand, but his stance was confident and did not invite a fight.

"Let's call it a night," Yami said. "Tomorrow we can settle this."

8

Ryou was grateful of Yami's suggestion, and he hurried back to his room and dropped with some exhaustion onto the bed. He pulled the Millennium Ring out of his pocket and stared at it.

It was glowing, more than Ryou could ever remember before. Usually it only did that when the Spirit was in the process of possessing him; it was often the only fair warning Ryou got that it was about to happen. But sometimes it glowed when other Millennium Items were nearby, like the time he'd first encountered Yugi and his friends.

Now it was glowing and it felt warm and urgent.

Ryou shook his head; the Spirit was trying to break through the mind link again. It had been doing it on and off the past few days, and Ryou had been pleased to find himself able to keep it out. It was getting more forceful now, though. Ryou could sense the agitation in the Spirit, and some desperation too.

Whatever was wrong, it really wanted to speak to him.

Ryou bit his lip. "Did you do that?" he asked, feeling a little stupid. He didn't usually speak to inanimate objects, even if they happened to be Millennium ones. "did you make Namu...Marik...do that?"

The Ring glowed an unhelpful response, not that Ryou had expected anything else.

He winced as the Spirit's familiar essence pulled at his link once more. There was a spark this time. It'd almost gotten through.

"I'm not letting you," Ryou growled, "do you hear?" he threw it on the floor, watched it edgily, almost expecting a response from the wretched thing.

Of course the Ring did not answer him and Ryou knew better than to put it on.

It was the last thing he was going to do.

88

Marik tried to hug some warmth into his aching limbs, and wondered where he had gone so wrong.

A fake God card, a fake staff, a fake _Marik._ Perhaps it had not been the best plan. He rubbed his head; the buzzing had gone, which was his only relief from all of this. His throat felt raw with a laugh he couldn't remember laughing, and the Soul Room floor was comforting against his body, which had felt like it was on fire for a short while.

The Soul Room had been his chosen refuge, when the buzzing had gotten too loud, and that had been his biggest mistake.

It had all been a mistake. The Ring, and wearing it, and trusting the Spirit that had seemed like it could be trusted.

Marik knew he'd been a fool just for that.

He watched the Spirit with a detached hate. Right now it was pacing up and down the Soul Room trying to break through to Ryou's firm, unmoving link, occasionally muttering choice curse words. It was like watching a frustrated teenager trying to get a signal on a mobile phone.

Marik would have found it amusing, if not for the whole lacking a body situation.

The sensation itself, being bodyless, was not particularly strange. Marik felt like he always did upon being in the Spirit's Soul Room, there was nothing different about that. The only difference was that he had no link to the outside anymore. There was no body waiting for him, that he could search for within his mind.

It had been his safety, because even if he'd wanted to trust the Spirit, the body had always been an assurance that he could escape the Soul Room if it came to that. He'd never felt trapped here before. Now he did, because he was.

He was at the Spirit's mercy, he was a prisoner and an object for the Spirit to scorn, to laugh at and tell Marik how easy it was to deceive him like this.

Bakura was still walking about the Soul Room, eyes closed and cursing even more colourfully. He would get to his scorning and laughing soon enough though. Marik was sure of it.

"Ryou won't let you through, you're wasting your time," he reminded the Spirit, because he wanted to see him get angrier.

Bakura didn't stop pacing, but he opened his eyes and spared Marik a glance;

"My host is weak, he'll break eventually."

Marik shook his head; "you're wrong. You underestimate Ryou more than anything. He's stronger than you think."

"Is that so?" the Spirit sounded irritated, but most of his concentration was still on the link, "we'll see, Marik."

"You won't see," Marik said, and he could almost enjoy this. There was nothing else left to do, he may as well get some pleasure out of tormenting the Spirit. "I spoke to Ryou, and he's not what you think he is. He's not weak anymore."

The Spirit stopped walking and stood in front of Marik, his mouth a thin line and giving away no thoughts at all.

Marik sneered; "you can't get through, can you? Why don't you admit it's useless?"

The Spirit seemed to waver for a second, like he was deliberating words and whether they might help.

"If you want your body back we need to contact my host," he said. "You might be a bit more helpful and stop your useless sulking."

Marik stared up at the Spirit, feeling like he'd been slapped. Then he cursed himself for being so shocked anyway. Bakura wasn't there to offer him sympathy. Bakura was a Spirit and he did not care.

Marik narrowed his eyes; "Why would you want to help me get it back? You took it away from me in the first place."

Bakura shook his head; "you humans are so fickle. Do you ever know what you really want?"

"You know what I want now," Marik said, glaring hard; "my _body_," he watched as the Spirit averted his eyes to the corners of his Soul Room. He did that a lot, Marik noticed. What was the thing looking for, anyway?

Marik peered round too, the Soul Room was suddenly much more ominous now he knew there was no way to get out of it. It was colder too, and the walls that faded away into darkness seemed more dangerous. Marik just wished the Spirit would get on with mocking and torturing him, or whatever he planned to do.

"Your darkness was up there," Bakura pointed up, seeming to notice that Marik was looking there too. "It escaped and found your body though."

"Tell me something I don't know."

The Spirit shook his head thoughtfully, Marik's snipes didn't seem to be bothering him. "what I don't understand is how you ended up here."

Marik curled his lip; "for saying you're a centuries year old Spirit, you're fairly useless."

The Spirit's eyes darkened. "Don't try my patience, Marik."

"Or what?" Marik didn't care. He'd lost his body, what did he have left? "Please tell me, Spirit. I really want to know."

The Spirit's face flashed anger, and Marik grinned. He wondered how far he could take it...

To his surprise and vague disappointment, the Spirt whirled away. But Marik could see his fists curled, fighting a dangerous aggression. Marik still wasn't afraid; he'd learnt not to be afraid of Bakura. That wasn't going to change, even if he hated him now.

"It wouldn't have worked anyway, Marik."

"What?" Marik stared at the back of the Spirit's head.

"The God cards will not tolerate a fake," the Spirit explained. " I would have thought you of all humans would know that. You should have predicted their fury."

Marik opened his mouth, wanting to protest, but found he had no words. He knew he'd gambled a lot on that part of the plan, and he'd put others in needless danger to do it. The Spirit was right there.

"Are you saying that the God cards brought my supposed darkness out?" he asked.

Bakura shrugged; "does it matter?"

"Not really," Marik scowled and turned away from the Spirit's haughty face. "I'm still without my body."

"Maybe there's another way to tap into my host," the Spirit said. He looked at Marik again. "But it would require your help."

Marik scoffed; "why on earth would I do that? You think I'm really that stupid, don't you?"

"You said you spoke to Ryou," the Spirit ignored him. "Is that right?"

"I spoke to him for a short while. Long enough for him to tell me how you made his life such a misery. We have lots in common."

Bakura eyed the ceiling thoughtfully. "Do you think he trusts you?"

Marik looked sarcastic. "I don't know. We didn't chat for too long, with me busy getting consumed by this darkness and losing my body, incase you forgot."

"He might be more willing to talk to you through the link," the Spirit said. "Maybe then we can use his body to get yours back."

Marik saw the plan formulating easily in the Spirit's eyes, and it made sense. He stood up wearily, ignoring the faint protest of his aching limbs. He stared at the Spirit;

"What if you decide not to find my body?"

For a moment Bakura looked like he didn't have an answer. Then he shrugged.

"You're just going to have to trust me."

Marik wanted to laugh, but he saw Bakura was neither smirking or scowling or anything like that. His face was blank and open and didn't hint at anything suspicious. Marik almost felt like he had no choice. And he didn't really.

What else was there left to lose? His soul to a Soul Room? He didn't imagine it could get much worse. The Spirit was who he had come to, when the buzzing had gotten too much. He'd come to it because he'd hoped for help and safety.

Now, for all appearances, the Spirit was still offering it to him.

Marik searched the dark brown eyes, as if a glint of deceit might reveal itself so suddenly. It didn't and Marik shook his head.

"Alright, Bakura. But don't let me regret it."

"Or what?" Bakura grinned as he stepped forwards. The Spirit closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them he looked determined; "my host is still near to the Ring, but the barrier is still up."

"What do we do?" Marik asked.

"In order for you to communicate with my host you have to break through my own link, or become a part of it as it were," Bakura paused, giving Marik a careful look, "to do that you must concentrate on my own essence, as I concentrate on my host's. Do you understand?"

"I think so," Marik said slowly. He thought about mind links and his own experiences; "Is it anything like the powers of the Millennium Rod?"

"I doubt it. With the Rod you are putting your mind within an unwilling host, and there is only one barrier there. For this you will need to follow my link and concentrate on my host's at the same time."

Bakura paused, giving Marik time to reflect. When the Spirit spoke again his voice was lower;

"I've not done this before. I can't be sure how well a wholly human soul will cope with it."

"It doesn't matter," Marik said. "I'll do anything."

The Spirit eyed Marik for a minute more, then he nodded, seemingly satisfied. He took a step nearer, which seemed unnecessarily close, and he cleared his throat.

"There, er, needs to be a physical connection."

Marik backed up, nearly tripping over his feet; "forget it, you're not getting anything like that from me-"

Bakura's eyes widened, and embarrassment looked oddly hilarious on the Spirit's face.

"Not like that!" the Spirit said roughly. "I mean _hands_, we link our hands. It will strengthen the connection."

Marik sighed, thoughts about sadistic blood rituals or torture procedures leaving his mind. "Oh right. That makes sense."

He held out his arms, a few inches from Bakura.

Bakura stared at them like they might be dangerous.

It took a few awkward seconds, but then the Spirit's hands found Marik's like unsteady claws. Marik almost flinched at their dreadful coldness, but he was used to the Soul Room by now, and these hands were that familiar feeling.

Marik stared at the hands wrapped in his until he caught Bakura watching him.

"You never got that tv set, I notice," he heard himself say, anything to defuse an awkward situation.

Bakura tilted his head, giving him a funny look. Marik could have almost smiled at it. He felt the Spirit's hands twitch a bit in his, but nothing else.

"Are you ready?" the Spirit asked.

"I guess," Marik hesitated; "but, er, what exactly am I supposed to do?"

Bakura looked rather unsure himself. "You should probably try and break through my link, then you should be able to find Ryou's through mine," he paused. "I think."

Marik nodded, although he still had no idea how he was going to do this. He felt Bakura's hands curve a bit more into his, and he followed suite, closing his eyes when Bakura closed his.

There was no sense of anything at first, never mind a sense of the Spirit. At first Marik worried, thinking that maybe now that he was bodyless he had no real connection to the Spirit anymore. Then slowly, gradually, he felt a familiar essence creeping around the edges of his mind.

Cold and dark, definitely the Soul Room, but containing something more that defined Bakura. Marik latched onto it, willing it to grow.

"That's right," Bakura sounded gruff. "Do that."

Marik wavered in his concentration, the harsh voice of the one he was joined to made him feel angry. Angry like he'd just lost his body, angry like Spirit's could not be trusted...

"I can't-"

The hands on his own were suddenly tighter and almost painful, forcing him to hold on.

"Don't be a weak human. The link is closer than you think," Bakura's voice was sharp and pushing.

"I'm _trying,_" Marik felt angrier, and his hands were hurting in Bakura's grip, their coldness seeping through and up his arms. The darkness was fading from his mind though, he needed to concentrate.

He focussed on the edges of the darkness once more, and this time they crept closer, like ink bleeding all into his mind and smothering his own sense of self. If it had been all cold and dank, as Marik was used to being in the Spirit's Soul Room, it would have been an entirely unpleasant experience.

As it was, the darkness seemed to fade out a bit, not disappear, but reform itself into a different colour. The colour was a dark red and it hit Marik all at once. It felt warm and lively and images were flashing at the tomb keeper before he could prepare himself.

He could see _himself_. Himself laughing, himself grinning, himself being stupid, but somehow it was funny. He could see his hand on a very pale arm, he could feel electricity which wasn't his rushing through his bones. He could see his own eyes, shining and happier than he ever thought he could be.

The warmth was burning inside of him, and it was overwhelming and wonderful.

Somewhere, perhaps in another place, he felt cold hands on his own jerk a bit.

The images of himself began to fade off then, as he delved deeper into the Spirit's mind. The dark red colour was still there, but it was swirling now, and getting faster and faster, like a vicious whirlpool. Marik was finding it harder to breathe as he entered a dark which reminded him of the Soul Room. It was everywhere, and it crawled into his mind, invading and violating every part of him.

The images came far too fast this time for Marik to really register. He saw a very young boy he did not recognise, he saw a place, houses he did not recognise, and there was screaming everywhere.

Marik was terrified. The red was draining away and replacing it with the darkness he dreaded, even though he didn't know why he should.

He gasped, it came from a mouth he had forgot he had. And as he remembered his mouth he remembered his body, or more the soul that still remained.

Marik cried out, and then he was himself again.

He opened his eyes. He was on his knees in the Soul Room, breathing heavily, needing the air. His hands were shaking against someone else's. He looked up.

Bakura was opposite him, staring at him, his face furious but determined. His fingers curled against Marik's.

"Don't break the link," he said roughly. "Ryou is almost here."

Marik nodded, ignoring the sickness in his throat and trying to forget all the images and feelings that still flickered about in his head. He'd seen darkness and it had been horrible and fascinating and far too much.

"Namu?"

Ryou's voice echoed about the Soul Room. He sounded scared.

"Are you really there, Namu?"

Marik blinked in surprise.

"I told him you were here," Bakura said wearily. "You need to speak to him."

"Oh," Marik cleared his throat, licked his lips. "Yes, Ryou, I'm all here. Well, some of me," he paused. "I'm just a soul right now. And, er, I'm not Namu. I'm Marik."

"A soul? Marik?" Ryou sounded confused. "Why...what..." his voice tailed off. "I'm really confused."

Marik absently noticed Bakura pull a face, a tired disdain for his host.

"It's ok," Marik said quickly. "It's confusing, but I need you to listen, so you can help me, ok?"

"I'll do whatever I can," Ryou said.

"Right, well," Marik felt himself relaxing a little more. He was still aware that he was talking through Bakura's link, but it was easy to do. At least there was no scary darkness and strange images anymore. "I...we need your body, Ryou. So that I can get my own back. Do you understand?"

Ryou spoke after a moment. ""I...I guess," there was another short pause, "Are you going to possess me, Nam...I mean Marik?"

Marik looked at Bakura for an answer. Bakura shook his head.

The silence seemed to tell enough to Ryou. "the Spirit?" he said rigidly.

Marik glanced back at Bakura, who was watching the ground now with fixed concentration, like he wasn't even involved in the conversation.

"Yes," Marik said, "the Spirit will have to possess you."

The silence that hung around them seemed to go on for ages. Marik suspected it had little to do with the strange way time worked in the Soul Room, more to do with Ryou's very understandable reluctance.

"Marik, make sure nothing happens," Ryou said abruptly, when it seemed the silence would stretch into forever.

Marik started to answer yes, but Bakura interrupted.

"He's gone now."

Marik felt the Spirit's hands pull away from his in one quick movement. A wave of relief and weakness washed over Marik as he rested on hands and knees, no longer having to worry about links.

"You'll be alright," Bakura told him.

Marik looked up to see the Spirit was standing, face stern and nothing else. He turned away from Marik as he started to focus on Ryou again.

Marik massaged his forehead, closed his eyes and was grateful for a darkness that was not hiding anything.

"My host is wearing the Ring," Bakura said, sounding pleased. "You humans stick together, I suppose."

Marik stared at the Spirit's hand which was held out, offering to haul him up. Marik took it in a moment, and it didn't feel as cold as he remembered. Bakura's smirk was even closer to a smile.

Marik smiled too. "Thank you, Bakura."

The Spirit raised a brow, like he didn't really understand. Marik didn't expect him to, he was learning a lot of lessons about Spirits recently.

88

Returning to his host's body was like slipping into familiar warm waters. Ryou's link had opened up very quickly and Bakura had wasted no time.

Walking along the narrow corridor of the blimp he was aware of Marik in his mind; a human presence that felt stronger for some reason. He blocked out Ryou, as he always did, and waited for Marik's voice to find him.

"Did it work?" the human asked.

"Perfectly," Bakura said. "A body is a fine thing to have,"

"Don't rub it in," Marik said with some humour, and Bakura was glad that the human felt warm again.

It must have been pulling him, the swarm of dark that had resided briefly in his Soul Room, because he found it again soon enough. Bakura stopped outside a doorway that was already partially open. He felt Marik bristle in his mind.

"It's here, isn't it?" the human said.

"Seems so," Bakura pushed the door quietly open.

Light pooled onto the carpet as he entered, and by the bed was a dark figure. His silhouette was mostly spikes and a cloak. On the bed was a man who looked ill but sleeping. Bakura moved in and noticed the Millennium Rod was raised above the bed, ready to strike.

"My brother!" Marik sounded full of alarm. It told Bakura enough.

He stepped out of the shadows; "So you're the unexpected darkness in my Soul Room."

The figure turned round; a sneering creature that Bakura could not really recognise as Marik. It was too different to be relatable to anything human, and Bakura knew human presence quite well, these days.

The figure laughed; his voice deep and scratched. He lowered the Millennium Rod only slightly.

"And _you're_ the darkness I found. It's nice to have company again."

Bakura smiled a bit; "It must be nice for you, having a body."

"It was easy to obtain. My weaker half is just that, you see."

Bakura felt unknown emotions belonging to Marik in his head. He imagined the frightened look on the human's face with a frown.

"Your other half would like his body back, if it's no trouble, of course."

The Dark Marik laughed, and the sound made Bakura move nearer, perhaps unconsciously. He had been right; this darkness was a very powerful one, thick with strength, and it made Bakura hungry.

"My other half," Dark Marik grinned. "You've got him hidden within you. It must be a burden. We shouldn't have to deal with these humans."

Bakura found it difficult to concentrate on the words, since the darkness was very strong now. It was the abyss given form. He remembered it's attraction.

He felt Marik's link in his head, frightened. It made Bakura concentrate;

"If you're not giving the body back willingly, I'll have to use force."

"Dark Bakura," Dark Marik said the name like oil. "I know you like games, and I know your mind well enough that you won't object to this one."

Bakura noticed the other raise the Millennium Rod, it was glowing and Bakura knew what was coming. He searched his Ring's powers, an old, reliable weapon that glowed against his chest as it came into action.

"We'll play a game," Bakura said, as the room around them became sick and distorted as a melting oil painting; "but under my terms."

In front of him, Dark Marik's grin did not falter.

88

notes: Dark Marik was supposed to appear much more in this chapter, but I'm saving all that for next time now. Next chapter expect a different sort of game in the Shadow Realm and an important decision that affects almost everyone!


	5. Playing with the Dark

**Chapter 5**

**Playing with the Dark**

The swirling abyss that had entertained Bakura's Soul Room before had been suffocating, leaving an imprint of promise he could not forget very well.

Now, as he entered the Shadow Realm, the sensations seemed to have magnified. There was a thick blanket of dark rather than a swarm; stretching out over Bakura and the Dark Marik like a waiting storm.

Bakura didn't need to look at it, it was already invading his being, telling him where it was and what it wanted. It was so close and Bakura could have took it all with the greedy delight he had always planned for...

"_Bakura?"_ the human voice in his mind was quiet and frightened. Bakura felt the link that was Marik, and it cleared away some of the dark mist that was bothering his eyes.

He blinked and things became clearer, the dark cover above hummed gently.

Dark Marik stood a few feet away, but close enough so that Bakura was able to read his expression. The twisted version of Marik blended with the backdrop of dark to some extent; almost like his body was folding into it at points.

Bakura had experience with humans, he knew their fear when they reached the Shadows, the way they screamed and begged. They were predictable like that.

This new darkness wouldn't be like that. Dark Marik was not all human. It could work to Bakura's advantage in some ways, if he could figure out it's purpose.

"Are you feeling at home, Spirit?" Dark Marik queried conversationally.

Bakura grinned.

Dark Marik returned it; "I know you are, I can feel you embracing the shadows, _my _shadows."

"Hm," Bakura rolled his eyes, looking anywhere but at the other; "I sensed your power in my Soul Room. I admit it feels very strong."

"Ah, I remember," Dark Marik nodded, "I watched you for a long time, I recognised your potential like you recognised mine."

"Isn't that precious. It's like we're made for each other."

Dark Marik just kept grinning; "we both have great power, because we come from a place the human soul cannot fight against."

Bakura could almost understand that. It made him think of something inside of him, something that was hard to find within his memories. For a moment he tried to gather them, so he could put this new forming epiphany together. There was so much dark though, it was hard to see through it all.

The search was interrupted by a violent stinging that rushed all through his body.

The darkness that had buzzed, that had swept around his Soul Room, and had torn Marik from his body, was enveloping him again, and now it was stronger than Bakura could imagine.

It was the swarm and then the abyss, and now it made Bakura want to see all of it.

He staggered, only just managing to catch himself. His chest was burning with the Ring, or perhaps it was just his body. He could barely move to check it.

As suddenly as it had arrived, the darkness lifted. Bakura gasped and sank to the floor. The Ring was not glowing and it was cool against him, but his body felt hot and it was shaking.

He felt an essence in his mind; a much needed coolness, and yet provoking the warmer side of him too;

"_Are you ok, Bakura?"_

Bakura had forgotten about the human again. Perhaps he should keep the link nearer to the front of his mind, but it felt hard to reach for some reason.

"I'm fine, Marik," he said, standing up.

"_How are we going to get my body back?"_

Bakura looked up; where the cover of dark was rippling occasionally. He was about to answer the human when his attention was snapped away from the link anyway.

Dark Marik laughed, and seemed pleased with himself; "this is just a taste of my power, Spirit."

Bakura kept his eyes above; "How did you get so powerful?"

"You should know."

Bakura grimaced. His body-his _host's_ body- was aching with the darkness, it felt numb and unstable, like it might break.

Human things were not made for this place, he couldn't expect it to survive very long.

"We are the dark part of another, we both have these powers if we want to use them," Dark Marik carried on. "I can rid you of my weaker self, the one that keeps distracting you."

"Distracting?" Bakura considered.

"Yes. I can feel him inside you, biting, trying to say things that don't matter. It's stopping you, ruining your potential."

"I'm touched you're so concerned," Bakura smirked, ""But please don't insult me. Humans do not affect my power."

Dark Marik shook his head, still all amused. "Your power? _Please_, Spirit. You have power far beyond what you know, if you only learned how to properly use it."

Bakura folded his arms. The dark was confusing, but he'd never been able to question it before now; "Are you going to just keep flattering me?"

"I was following your lead. You took us to the Shadow Realm, you requested my weaker self's body, it's all in your hands."

Bakura narrowed his eyes. "So easy, is it? Very well, I request you give your other half his body back, then."

Dark Marik's laugh was spiteful; "I would wonder why you care, if I didn't already see inside of you," he raised the Millennium Rod and pointed it at Bakura; "I can do much better than that, Spirit."

Bakura set his Ring into motion, but Dark Marik was quicker.

The slab of agony that met Bakura's head was brief but vicious. He clutched at his hair, pulled at it, like that might wrench the pain away. It didn't help.

When Bakura thought his mind might explode, the immediate pain suddenly subsided and became a dim throb.

Then there was a scream within his mind that he knew was human.

"_Marik?_" Bakura grasped around for the link.

The sound was awful, and still it went on, making Bakura's ears buzz and his mind jumbled. He could barely focus on the link, but he could focus enough to know the human presence was beginning to fade away, slipping all out of his mind...

Then the scream, the sound like Marik's voice that had been an echo in his head, suddenly became clear and real. It was close to him.

Bakura turned around.

Marik was shivering on the ground, his eyes were wide and streaming. The human opened his mouth but words were lost in a confused whimpering sound. He was looking at Bakura like the Spirit knew what to do or say.

Bakura did not know, but he reached out a hand anyway, because Marik was warm and familiar and shouldn't look like he did in that moment.

He halted in the motion when a deep chuckle vibrated around. Bakura looked at Dark Marik;

"What did you do to him?"

Dark Marik raised his brows; "you're angry?"

"_What did you do to him?_"

"You requested his body back," Dark Marik looked bored. "I gave him his body back."

Bakura stared down at the human Marik, who looked mostly shocked and scared. A sight that was so weak it should have been disgusting to the Spirit, but Bakura was compelled to kneel down and look the human in the eye.

"Bakura..." Marik started, his voice shaky. His hands twitched, in that human way, like they wanted to hold something.

Bakura shook his head, but found his own hand touching Marik's chest anyway. He knew trembling chests, they breathed and they had heartbeats inside of them. They were warm, and Marik was warm.

"He has his body again." Bakura realised.

He turned, and as he took his hand away from Marik, the darkness came to him again. Bakura stood up, tendrils of mistiness curling round his arms.

"How did you do that? It isn't possible."

"Weren't you listening to me?" Dark Marik was grinning; "I am more powerful than you know. I am more than the darkness that you are familiar with, Spirit. I am complete darkness."

"_Complete_?" Bakura laughed. "You shouldn't brag to me about things like that. Don't you know what I am?"

A strange smile crawled up Dark Marik's face. "Do _you _know, Spirit?"

"What do you mean?"

Dark Marik shook his head; "I don't think you do."

Bakura scowled. He felt Marik standing close to his side. He could sense the human's blind fear.

Dark Marik was still smiling; "Tell me, _Bakura. _Why do you handle humans so easily? Why do you let my weaker half stand by you like that? And why do you let him, of all creatures, invade your mind and see your deepest thoughts, and your only _weakness_?"

"Weakness?" Bakura's throat felt dry; "what do you mean?"

Dark Marik looked almost annoyed; "Don't take me for a fool, Bakura. I have been in your Soul Room. I was the swarm you fed, and you allowed me to invade you. Did you not think I'd find it?"

"Find what?" Bakura snapped. He felt a bit heady with the smog of dark now. It was coiling all over him, because he let it. His anger would always let it in.

"Don't tell me you don't remember?" Dark Marik's eyes were suddenly wide with amusement. He stared up at the thick blanket above them; "But of course. The darkness is much stronger, it makes sense."

"Unlike you," Bakura sniped. "This is getting tiresome. Please explain what you're talking about."

"Very well," Dark Marik spoke slowly and easily; "tell me, Spirit, do you find your human essence hinders you much at all?"

Bakura stared at the other. "What?" came from his mouth, weak and quiet.

Dark Marik's grin broadened. "Is it a hindrance? I am curious to know, having no soul of my own," he paused. "It makes me feel a bit left out."

Bakura shook his head, mostly to himself. He didn't know what he was shaking, or trying to shake, but he needed to get rid of it. The things that swam about his mind, that flashed strange images, that reminded him of something he didn't want to remember.

"Does it hurt? Having to push it away all the time?" Dark Marik asked, mockingly concerned. "I'd imagine it does. Souls don't survive very long in the Shadows. But then, you know that better than anyone, right?"

Bakura concentrated, gritting his teeth against whatever was resurfacing in his mind. He didn't need it.

"I'm surprised it's still there, Spirit," Dark Marik said; "how has it managed to survive, I wonder?"

"Bakura...?"

The hand on his shoulder made Bakura jerk back, away from it. He opened his eyes, not even realising he'd closed them, and glared at the human stood next to him.

"Don't do that," he hissed.

Marik looked hurt, but Bakura didn't care.

"Jogging a few unwanted memories, am I?" Dark Marik asked, "it's a shame, isn't it? Just think of all the power you could have if you could only be rid of it."

"It stays hidden enough," Bakura glared.

"But it's still there, isn't it? Listen, Spirit. Without your weakness you can be complete darkness, just as I am," Dark Marik raised his arms, the Rod glowing a little in them. "And I hold powers that you need."

"What would I need from you?" Bakura asked, full of contempt.

"Isn't it obvious? I can free you of the human spirit within your soul."

Wisps of the dark were curling around Dark Marik's arms now, and they were forming circles at the tips which seemed to get bigger. Soon they had melded into one whole circle, and Bakura remembered the abyss, the thing that had called to him back in his Soul Room. It was a magnet, and Bakura felt it's attraction all at once.

He wouldn't let it escape this time.

He raised an arm, even though he was too far away to reach the dark. That didn't matter. He could feel it already. It was so strong.

"Bakura?"

Bakura remembered the human Marik, who was quiet and shaky by his side. He turned and saw Marik's strange, desperate eyes, and wondered for a brief moment why the human should even be there.

The dark fuzzed in front of his eyes then, and waved his attention, and so much more, back to Dark Marik.

"I will join with you," he said slowly. "But grant me my own body, away from my host, first."

Dark Marik raised the Rod with an indulgent grin; "Very well."

88

"Bakura, don't," Marik moved his hands toward the Spirit, but remembered it was Bakura, and then dropped them uselessly. "Don't," he said again, feeling hopeless.

The Spirit's eyes were too dark, and it worried Marik more than anything else.

"Keep out of this," the Spirit said oddly.

Marik tilted his head; "Bakura, we got my body back. We don't need to stay here anymore. Come on, let's go, we got what we wanted-"

"No," Bakura faced him then, and his expression was angry. "_You _got what you wanted, Marik."

Marik felt his stomach sink; "What?"

"Did you think I was going into this without expecting _anything_ for my own gain?"

"I..." Marik suddenly felt so stupid.

Bakura glared at him; "Did you think this was all for you? Really, Marik. I thought you knew me better than that."

Marik remembered Bakura's Soul Room; "I _do _know you! I know you better than anyone! Especially better than _that!_" he managed to look at his dark half, as hard as it was to do.

His dark half was watching them both with some amusement.

Marik turned back to the Spirit; "_Listen_, Bakura. I do know you! And we came to get my body back and that was it. Can't you remember? We were working together!"

Bakura stared at him, and Marik saw the confusion there for a tiny moment.

"Marik..." the Spirit started.

Abruptly a bright yellow light haloed the Spirit. Marik watched, disturbed and horrified, as Bakura's eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to pin points. The Millennium Rod's power crackled all around him.

"No-" Marik grabbed the Spirit's arm, but the yellow light was a rippling electricity, and it bit into him. He pulled back in pain.

He could only watch.

Bakura's body twisted, and two screams came into existence at the same time. The electricity distorted everything, and in the next moment all the light had gone.

Marik looked at the ground, where two people now lay.

Ryou stirred first, rubbing his head and groaning.

"What...what happened?"

"Ryou, you're alright," Marik grabbed the boy's arm in relief. "I thought you might..." he peered over Ryou's shoulder, where he could see Bakura was coming round too, shaking his head.

"You couldn't have made it less painful?" the Spirit was looking at Dark Marik.

Dark Marik waved the Rod carelessly; "Now that they're separate from you, we can be rid of our weaker halves."

Bakura grinned dangerously; "One more thing," he said as he stood up. "I want your power too. We can do away with the humans afterwards. It'll be more fun."

"Hah. As you wish!" Dark Marik looked gleeful.

Marik felt Ryou move close to him, and he couldn't believe what was happening. He shivered, as the darkness began curving; the black blanket above them all was slowly starting to descend, stemming off like pieces of string.

Bakura stood up and raised his arms. The strings of dark glided toward his fingers, and then began disappearing into them. Opposite, Dark Marik was doing the same.

"Er, what's going on?" Ryou asked, sounding quite disturbed.

"I... I don't know,"

The blanket was beginning to thin out now, with Dark Marik and Bakura seeming to be taking it all away. Both their faces were greedy and grinning, watching each other with a strange delight.

"Not that this isn't entirely fascinating, but this doesn't look very good for us," Ryou held Marik's arm very tight, "Hey, you got your body back," he said in a voice that was trying to be optimistic but failing very badly.

"Yes," Marik said. It didn't seem that important anymore. "Bakura," he said weakly. "Bakura, what are you doing?"

The Spirit did not answer him, it was like he wasn't aware of anything but the darkness. Marik could recognise the hunger in the Spirit's face.

"_Bakura_," Marik repeated. "Listen to me!"

"Don't-" Ryou grabbed at Marik too late. Marik ran toward Bakura.

"Bakura, what are you doing, you idiot-"

The slam of Shadows that crashed into Marik's gut sent him reeling back across the ground. It took him a second to realise that Bakura had hit him with it.

"_Don't touch me_," the Spirit's voice was an unnatural hiss, and it split through Marik like a knife.

Marik stared at Bakura, not really feeling the pain in his stomach, or Ryou at his side, helping him upright.

The Spirit was not what Marik remembered; consuming itself in the darkness that had always been there, it's mouth all fangs and it's eyes wide and feral. Marik had always known Bakura could be frightening, but never like this. And though Marik had always been cautious with Bakura, he'd never been afraid of him.

Now he was afraid.

"Bakura," he whispered. "What...what's happening to you?"

Bakura stared ahead, and Marik saw his darker half and shuddered. The creature that called itself Dark Marik was laughing, and the Rod was shining in his hand, even as the dark was being absorbed into him.

"It's too dangerous," Ryou was saying, his voice shaking. "Why did you do that, stupid?"

"It's that...my dark half," Marik realised. "He's taking Bakura's soul away!" Marik started to lunge forward again. He was caught by Ryou's surprisingly fierce grip;

"Nam...Marik-_whatever_ your name is! We need to get out of here, _now._ And preferably not the suicidal way!"

"We can't get out! Not without Bakura!"

"The Spirit?" Ryou paled. He looked doubtfully at Bakura, who looked anything but sane company. Marik wasn't surprised when Ryou shook his head; "I told you, I'm not taking the suicidal way."

"He has the Ring, he summoned the Realm, we need him to get back," Marik struggled to get away, but Ryou held him firm.

"You're saying that maniac demon is our only way out?"

"_Yes_,"

Ryou looked like he might be sick. "Remind me why you thought all this was going to be a good idea, again?"

"I don't...I thought I could trust him, I thought he'd be different," Marik could hear himself faltering. "He said he'd help me!"

Ryou rolled his eyes and looked frustrated. "You trusted a demon Spirit that likes to possess people and send them to the Shadow Realm on a regular basis? Can I ask you where your brain had wandered off to at the time?"

Marik scowled. It wasn't that simple, surely it wasn't...

He'd seen more of Bakura, more than Ryou knew. He'd been in Bakura's _Soul_, and it had been terrifying, but there had been something else there, and it had been warm and wonderful, and it was what had told Marik things might work out.

If only he could find that again...

It hit Marik all at once, an idea which made him turn to Ryou and grasp his shoulders hard.

"Ryou! I need you to talk to Bakura! Right now!"

Ryou looked at him with a concerned face; "I already told you, I'm not suicidal, Marik."

"No, no, not like that. I mean through your link! Can you do that?"

Ryou looked unsure, and Marik squeezed his shoulders a little more, willing him to try. Ryou seemed to see this, and his face softened;

"Ok," he said, smiling sickly. "But if my head explodes or I get taken away in that big black thing, I'm blaming you."

"That's fair enough," Marik took Ryou's hands in his own.

"What are you doing?" Ryou was alarmed.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. Bakura showed me."

"Oh," Ryou rolled his eyes; "now I feel _loads _better."

"Please," said Marik, imploring. "Just concentrate on the link."

Ryou sighed unevenly, but didn't object anymore. He closed his eyes to focus, and Marik did the same.

For a moment Marik thought he'd found Bakura's link through Ryou at once; he could feel the same cold darkness edging into his mind again. Then he realised he was in the Shadow Realm. This was all the darkness, and all of it felt like Bakura. Marik would need to search much harder than he had in the Soul Room.

He opened his eyes a moment and looked at Bakura. The Spirit was standing very still, his hands raised as they had been before, but his eyes were wide and transfixed on the darkness above, like he was in a trance. His mouth was a vague and unaware grin.

Marik gripped Ryou's hands a bit tighter, remembering Bakura's own hands, and how tight they had been on his own.

"Ow," Ryou grumbled.

"Sorry," Marik said, "are you getting anything?"

"I-no, I don't think so," Ryou sounded sorry. "Marik, I've never tried to get into it's mind before."

"Never?"

"Conversing with demon spirits has never been very high on my list of priorities."

"Don't you feel anything? Anything at all?" Marik could feel the darkness around them tangibly now, and Ryou's hand shivered a bit in his; he must have felt it too. Time was running out. He dug his hands into Ryou's a bit more, scrunching his eyes up so tight that he saw little dots.

"I'm not finding anything. But I am feeling really cold, and my hands have definitely gone numb," said Ryou.

Marik opened his eyes and broke away from Ryou, groaning in frustration. This wasn't working. But Ryou had a link, it should have worked...

The dark had thinned dramatically from above them all now, though it didn't reveal any light. If anything, things had gotten dimmer, and definitely colder.

"Look how the dark comes to them," Ryou said, like he might be pretending it was all a very impressive special effects show. "Why are they doing that?"

"To become more powerful," Marik's voice cracked as he realised. "The dark is too powerful, that's why we can't get through the link."

"It goes through their fingers," said Ryou, and it sounded like nothing.

For a moment it was nothing. And Marik stared at his own hands, unsteady and a bit sweaty. Then something dawned on him.

He staggered up, and ignored Ryou's unbelieving voice behind him. He walked toward Bakura, who was not aware of him anyway. It would be easy, he could catch the Spirit by surprise.

"What are you doing?"

"Get off, Ryou, I know what I'm doing," he pushed Ryou's hand away, and kept it away this time. He was too close to Bakura, and Ryou wouldn't dare come any closer.

Marik couldn't blame him.

Bakura's face was corpse white, his lips an odd greyish blue, but his eyes were the most terrifying thing. They were empty, with no reflection, and they stared straight up at the darkness like it was the only thing in the world.

"Bakura?" Marik stood in front of him, but the Spirit's face did not change and nor did it speak.

The dark was still stemming into Bakura's fingers, which were like white claws. Marik glanced down at his own hands, shaking rather badly.

"Don't make me regret this, Bakura," he recalled what he'd told the Spirit in the Soul Room.

Bakura didn't respond.

Marik was terrified, but it was too late for that.

He lunged up in one clumsy step, and grabbed Bakura's hands in his own.

They were like ice, and immediately closed in on his. Nails like razors dug into his flesh, but Marik didn't care, and he watched as Bakura's eyes flashed. They were furious, but it was okay, because now Marik could see himself in them again.

His back hit the ground as Bakura threw him, but Marik held on, taking the Spirit with him.

"Bakura," Marik winced.

Bakura hung over him, teeth bared, his eyes wild. He pulled savagely against the tomb keeper.

"_Let_ _go_!" his voice was still mostly that abnormal hissing sound, but Marik ignored it. He squeezed Bakura's cold palms into his own as hard as he could, pressing his warmth into them. He ignored the stinging pain that stabbed at his body, and Ryou's cry that sounded distant and like it wasn't a part of any of this.

Marik shut his eyes tight, focussed fiercely on the link.

It was easier to ignore the pain in his body once he was inside, and he found himself seeing the spreading, inky darkness of Bakura's essence much quicker. It was easy, now he knew what he was looking for.

Bakura's angry growls and cries were trying to bring him back though, his hands pulling viciously in Marik's, trying to get away.

Marik ignored it all, and found the edges of a dark red he remembered in Bakura's Soul Room.

His head hit the ground and stars exploded in his eyes as he opened them. He saw Bakura's snarling face.

"I'll kill you," the Spirit said, full of hate.

"No you won't," Marik ignored the ache at the back of his head. He blinked, regaining his focus on the Spirit.

"_Weak human_, why do you bother?"

Marik shook his head, which didn't do him any favours. He shut his eyes again quickly to find the link. He couldn't do this much longer, he felt like he might pass out...

The rush of warmth that filled his thoughts almost did the job for him, but the pleasant emotion that came with it helped him stay alert, because that was what he had been looking for.

He found himself reflected in Bakura, those images of himself laughing or smiling or being stupid again. He found his own eyes, as the Spirit saw them. He found himself as the Spirit saw him.

"Look, Bakura," he squeezed the Spirit's shaking hands as best he could. "I found your soul again."

There was a moment of heavy silence, both within his mind and outside. Marik held his breath, held onto the memories which were not really his, and hoped that Bakura had found them too.

He heard Bakura's gasp as the darkness spread away, and then the heavy rhythm of his breathing close to his face.

Marik opened his eyes, and Bakura was staring at him, wide eyed and in a terrible shock. The Spirit's hands were hot and they trembled as much as Marik's. Marik watched Bakura recoil, the memories set in his eyes. The darkness that had been clouding around them both was rushing away in desperate plumes.

"I couldn't remember," the Spirit's voice quivered.

Marik smiled, tired but mostly relieved; "You got my body back, ok?" He lowered his hands, his grip slipping a little from Bakura's.

He felt the Spirit shift off him, although their hands stayed linked. Bakura pulled him up into a sitting position and his arm was quick and felt safe around Marik's back.

"That's interesting," Dark Marik said.

Marik looked up to see his dark half was hardly visible, mostly screened in all the darkness that had gathered all around him, but he could still hear his sneer;

"My weaker half knows how to find your own weakness, Bakura."

Marik felt Bakura move slightly, and then his hoarse voice; "I'm not worried. I told you I can handle humans." he stood up, and Marik winced as he tried to follow. He felt the Spirit's hand on his arm, telling him to stay down.

"Keep close to my host," Bakura said, so only Marik could hear.

Marik shuffled to Ryou, who held his arm and asked if he was alright.

Marik nodded, even though he thought he might pass out. But he needed to keep focussed. He watched Bakura; the Spirit was close, his back to them as he faced Marik's dark half. He held the Millennium Ring in his hands and it started to glow.

"What now, Spirit?" Marik grinned., "Grouping them both together so we might finish them off quicker?"

"Not quite," Bakura said, and there must have been a telling look on his face, even if Marik couldn't see it, because his dark half raised his brows.

"Is that how it's going to be, then?" the dark half asked, and then he rolled the Rod in his hand, and it began to glow too.

There were a few painful seconds of nothing, and then bright light. Dark Marik struck first, and Bakura staggered back. The Ring came into action just in time, countering the Rod.

The Items' powers formed a struggling snake-like beam in the middle, each fighting for dominance. Marik felt lightheaded, but he kept a hold on Bakura's link, like that might lend the Spirit some more power.

Bakura was the only thing stopping the Rod's powers from getting through, and though Marik knew the strength of the Ring, he still couldn't be sure of Bakura's own strength.

For a few seconds the Ring broke through the Rod's powers, and it hit Marik's dark half, making him slink back into shadow to recover. Bakura backed up quickly and crouched next to Marik and Ryou, the Ring burning in his hands.

He looked mostly at Marik;

"We're leaving now, close your eyes."

Marik didn't need to be told that, he was already nearing unconsciousness.

The last thing he felt was the undefinable strength of the Ring and the arm looping round his shoulder. It was cold but safe and he knew it was Bakura.

88

Ryou staggered but managed to keep a hold of Marik, who was slumped fairly senseless against him. Ryou almost dropped him a couple of times, but the Spirit on the other side helped keep him upright.

The raw and bright light of the real world hurt Ryou's eyes for a moment, and then he realised they were back in the blimp, in the room where the Spirit and that strange version of Marik had met.

As the light became normal Ryou just caught the blur of blue rushing toward them, and then a sharp and angry hissing sound and a crash on the floor.

Ryou stared at the ground where Yami was pinning the Spirit down tight; his hands fierce round his collar. The Spirit was snarling at him, his own hands were round his own neck, and Ryou realised he was clutching the Ring like nothing else mattered.

An audience of Yugi's friends were all there too, faces stunned and frightened. One of them was a woman who Ryou did not know, or even remembered being on the blimp at all. She rushed forwards and grabbed Marik's shoulder. There were tears in her eyes.

"My brother!"

Ryou wondered distantly how many more skeletons Marik had in his complicated closet.

"He's okay," he told her instead. "We got out okay."

The woman who was Marik's sister pulled Marik away and set him on the bed. The fake Marik was still there too, and he seemed to be stirring a bit. Ryou didn't really notice. He watched, feeling sick, as Yami pulled hard on the Ring round the Spirit's neck

"_Give me the Ring now_," Yami demanded. The Puzzle was glowing round his neck.

"What's the problem, Pharaoh?" the Spirit managed, through a vicious tug; "think I'm going to send you all to the Shadow Realm?"

"_You know that's what I think!"_

Everyone cringed back, except the Spirit himself of course, who sneered through his constricting breaths like it was all a game.

Ryou swallowed uneasily, he didn't like to see this. It didn't matter who it was.

Yami snarled and slammed the Spirit hard into the ground. There was a nasty cracking sound as it's head met it, and the Spirit groaned, closing it's eyes, hands falling away from the Ring.

Yami wasted no time, scrabbling to pull the Ring off, and throwing it across the floor.

"Got it," Joey snatched the item up triumphantly.

Yami got off the Spirit quickly. He looked round at Ryou, his face immediately concerned, and much more how Ryou was used to it.

"Ryou, what happened? Are you alright?"

Ryou nodded; "I-I'm fine. Just a bit shaky. Nam-er, Marik took the worst of it."

"That's definitely Marik, then?" Duke asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Not the guy lying on the bed, or the guy with the cloak and the crazy tongue thing?"

Ryou blinked; "er-"

"It _is _Marik, my brother," said the woman on the bed, her face mixing relief and concern.

"That solves one problem, but we still have that one," said Tristan, eyeing the Spirit on the floor.

"How did he-" Tea started to speak.

A low sigh escaped the Spirit, and everyone watched as it hauled itself upright. For a moment it looked dazed, running a hand along it's neck, eyes widening when it found nothing there.

"Where did you-"

"Finders, keepers," Joey dangled the Ring, a safe distance away.

"Give me the Ring," the Spirit said in a deadly voice. It reminded Ryou that it was the voice in his head he had heard so many times before.

"Nope," Joey said.

"You-" The Spirit started forwards, but a burst of yellow light crashed into it's chest before it could get very far. The Spirit staggered but managed to stay upright. It glared at Yami.

Yami was holding the Puzzle up, and it was glowing brightly.

"Keep back, Bakura." he warned. "I'll do much worse, I promise."

The Spirit laughed; "The Shadow Realm? For some reason I'm regretting I ever left," the Spirit looked at Ryou, and then at Marik.

Ryou didn't know what to make of it; it made him feel uneasy.

"Are you going to send me back, Pharaoh?" the Spirit started forwards again, and Yami hit it with another flash of Shadow Magic.

"That's too easy," Yami said,. "First you'll tell me what you were doing with Marik and Ryou."

Everyone had formed a rough semi circle round the bed and all eyes were on the Spirit. The Spirit glared at them, not seeming inclined to say anything that Yami wanted to hear. Ryou noticed it grimace as it rubbed it's side.

Ryou did not like the Spirit, but he could understand it had protected him. Without Marik to defend it there was no-one else.

"Yami; the Spirit saved us,"

Yami and the Spirit turned to Ryou, both wearing similar faces of surprise.

"It _saved_ you?" Joey asked, like it might be a joke.

Ryou nodded. "It got us out of the Realm, from that, er, weird version of Marik."

"What?" Yami stared at the Spirit, still angry, but there was confusion there now. His Puzzle's warning glow was fading a bit.

The Spirit folded it's arms. "You always were far too hasty, Pharaoh. Aren't you even curious to know how I'm here, without my host?"

"Yeah, that's a point," said Joey, looking horrified. "How'd that happen?"

"Erm, that was thanks to that weird Marik thing too," said Ryou.

Yami looked between him and the Spirit, still all confused and rather worried. Ryou could sympathise. His brain was still trying to catch up with everything and work it all out.

The Spirit grinned at Yami; "My own body. Jealous, Pharaoh?"

Yami opened his mouth, and looked like he might swear. Marik's murmuring groan stopped him, and everyone turned to the bed.

"Marik," the Spirit moved to him at once, ignoring the startled noise from the woman who was Marik's sister.

Yami looked surprised too, but his face quickly rearranged itself; "Is he alright, Ishizu?"

Marik's sister nodded; "I think so. I'm taking him to his bed."

She started to get up, putting an arm around Marik. The Spirit followed, his hand wavering near Marik's arm.

"You're staying here," Yami said.

The Spirit looked at him with disinterest. "No I'm not."

"Yes you _are_," Yami stood in front of the Spirit. "you owe us some explanations."

"I'll just have to owe them then, won't I?"

"Listen, pal-" Joey raised a fist.

The door opened then, spreading a little more light over the awkward group. Seto Kaiba was standing there, his face full of irritation. Mokuba was at his side, staring obviously at Ryou's strange doppelganger.

"I should probably be surprised," Kaiba considered. "But after everything that's already happened, I think I'm immune."

"Oh this is nothing," said Duke. "You should see them on a bad day."

Kaiba pulled a face, surveying the entire group superiorly; "Evil spirits, crazy versions of other stupid people, and ridiculous fog that somehow manages to get inside my blimp are the _last straw_,"

"Are you saying we can finally get off this damn blimp?" Joey asked.

"The tournament is on hold, for now," Kaiba eyed Yami meaningfully. "Till you freaks can sort out your messed up fantasy games. I'll be waiting for those God cards."

"You'll get your duel, Kaiba." Yami said.

He was still watching the Spirit, and the Spirit was watching him, eyes glinting and mouth curved up. He was close to Marik, and Ryou wondered what he was thinking, though he dared not tap into their link.

Ishizu seemed to be the only one not sensing anything so awkward about it all, and she pushed between them, her arm round Marik. It was only this that made the Spirit look away from Yami.

"I already told you, Bakura-"

"Just let him come," Ishizu said quietly. "I don't mind."

Yami opened his mouth, like he might protest, but he noticed the imploring look on Ishizu's face.

"Don't you try anything," he said.

The Spirit smiled sarcastically; "don't worry your spiky, royal Pharaoh head."

The group watched the three file out, and the tense atmosphere seemed to lift a bit. Ryou was relieved not to have to look at the voice in his head anymore.

He cleared his throat and smiled weakly at Yami;

"So, er. Lot's to talk about, right?"

88

notes:

I'm using dub names, but for Yami Marik I prefer to just call him dark Marik. Was he referred to that in the anime? I really don't remember =/


	6. After Dark

**Chapter 6**

**After Dark**

Yami sat on the edge of the sofa, his mind in a whirl as he offered Ryou a hot drink. Ryou smiled but Yami saw his hands shake a little as he drank it. He looked whiter than usual and it just made Yami hate the Spirit even more.

The pale boy spoke after a moment; "So...let me get this straight; Marik has a sister, Ishizu..."

"Yeah, the crazy one who doesn't mind evil Spirits hanging around her," Joey said helpfully. Tea elbowed him in the side. "It's true! She is crazy."

"Right," said Ryou, "and that other man is Odion, Marik's adopted brother?"

"It's all just one big messed up unhappy family, isn't it?" Duke said cheerfully, leaning over the couch, just behind Serenity. "I'm liking it better than the card games, personally."

Tristan rolled his eyes; "It's fine till demon dark halves start getting involved. And I'll remind you Ryou could have died."

Duke just continued to smile at Ryou; "but you're alive, so it was a nice happy ending, wasn't it?"

Ryou's smile was very forced, and Yami saw the look in his eyes, as though he was remembering something they could not understand. Yami wanted to, though. He_ needed_ to, if only to satisfy his own confusion.

He spoke to Ryou gently; "Ishizu told us everything, not long after Marik's...erm, possession, as it were. She told us there was always something inside of Marik...Can you remember much about it?"

Ryou rubbed his arms; "Unfortunately, yes. I'll just have to add it to my ever growing list of traumatic experiences," his grin was much more genuine, but he sighed tiredly when he looked at Yami; "Marik's...dark half, whatever it was, seemed to be really powerful though. Maybe...maybe more powerful than the Spirit."

A short silence hung about the room, and Yami could feel the uneasiness settling about everyone.

"None of this explains why it gave the Spirit it's own body, though," Joey broke the quiet.

"I think the dark Marik was trying to bargain with the Spirit," Ryou said slowly. He stared at his drink like it might have something very strange inside of it; "for a while I thought...well, me and Marik thought the Spirit would take the offer up. It nearly did, too."

"That would make a whole lot more sense," Tea murmured.

"Yeah," Ryou nodded. "But...I think Marik knows more about the Spirit. He managed to get it to help us out, somehow. It was like he had a connection with it." Ryou paused; "I know I have one, through our link, but this was different. I know Marik got through to it somehow," Ryou looked at Yami, as though he expected him to say something about that.

Yami frowned; "there must be an explanation. It wouldn't help you for nothing."

"That's what I thought," Ryou shrugged.

Yami leaned back, and felt Yugi's link poking him. Yugi had been watching and listening to everything, and Yami always felt bad about taking over his body for long periods, even if it was a joint decision.

Today it hadn't been so joint, but Yami couldn't help it. Whenever the Spirit Bakura appeared, Yami felt an anger and need for confrontation he could not control. He knew the Spirit felt it too, and that was what told Yami that the Spirit was a part of his past. And even if it was an unpleasant presence, it was still a precious link to something he needed to remember.

"_Let's get some sleep. We can work this out tomorrow." _Yugi's voice echoed in his mind, understanding as usual.

Yami nodded, and he looked round to see a lot of his friends seemed to have the same idea. Everyone was tired and pale, especially Ryou.

"It's been a long night," Yami said. "what do you guys say to bed?"

"I say that's the best plan ever," Joey yawned. He rolled his eyes to the door though, and looked cautious. "Do you really think it was a good idea, letting that looney Spirit near Ishizu and Marik?"

Yami had not thought it was a good idea, but he remembered Ishizu's assuring face; "Ishizu should know better than any of us, I suppose."

"Oh yeah, she's got those crazy item powers too, hasn't she," Duke said. "Man, I want an item."

"She's got the Necklace," Yami nodded. "She'll be safe."

"Well I'm not hearing any screaming," said Joey. "That's always a good sign."

Yami felt in his pocket, and found the Millennium Ring with some comfort.

It had been his main objective; as soon as the Spirit, Ryou and Marik had sprung back into the real world of the blimp, Yami knew he had to get the Ring.

At least without that, Bakura was somewhat defenceless.

Tea looked unhappy; "It's still the Spirit. We should all be careful."

"What are we supposed to do? Keep knives under our pillows?" asked Duke conversationally.

"Maybe sleep with one eye open?" Serenity suggested.

"I wouldn't feel safe with _both_ open," said Tea, hugging herself. "The sooner we're off this blimp, the better."

Yami wished he could say she might be overreacting, but they were dealing with the Spirit of the Ring. Even though they were on course back to Domino City, when they got back Bakura would still be existing. They couldn't very well leave him to his own devices, knowing what he was capable of.

Millennium Ring or not, Bakura was deranged and not to be trusted.

The grim thought followed Yami to bed. He paused outside Marik's room and stared at it. It sounded quiet in there, but Yami imagined this was the silence that followed a manic Spirit's killing spree.

He pushed the door open. He needed to see.

Marik was sitting up in bed, looking sleepy and worried as he rubbed his eyes. Ishizu sat by the bed, her face faintly relieved as she stroked a hand through her brothers hair. Slumped against the opposite wall, and mostly in shadow, Bakura was sleeping.

He didn't look too manic when he was like that.

"It's okay. He's been out for a couple of hours, now," Ishizu at smiled at Yami.

"I see," Yami stepped quietly into the room, watching Bakura a moment more before turning to the bed. "How are you feeling, Marik?"

Marik looked up at Yami, still rubbing his eyes; "I'm sorry, Pharaoh," he said dully.

Yami saw how tired he was; "Don't worry, Ishizu told us everything."

"Everything?" Marik blinked at his sister.

"I'll explain tomorrow, when you've gotten some more sleep," she said gently.

Yami nodded; "Your darkness is gone, you're safe now."

"No, Pharaoh," Marik shook his head, and his eyes were helpless; "You're forgetting. He has the Millennium Rod."

88

When Bakura awoke he looked straight at the bed and saw Marik wasn't there anymore.

He stood up, far too fast, and felt dizzy and like he might sit back down again. He slouched against the wall, managing to keep his balance, and wondering why he felt so drained. His limbs were stiff, his mouth felt too dry and his stomach was making disturbing noises.

Clutching his chest, Bakura remembered he didn't have the Ring. He cursed the stupid Pharaoh, tipping his head back against the wall. It connected with a pang of pain, and Bakura remembered the brief fight last night. He cursed the Pharaoh more enthusiastically.

Pushing himself away from the wall, he saw the sun streaming through the window, hurting his eyes. His head felt strange and fragmented, like he'd been dreaming too long, but slowly bits of reality were seeping back into it.

Marik flashed in Bakura's mind more vividly than anything else, and he moved forwards on instinct, almost falling down again.

He grabbed the wall and felt along it as he walked from the room, feeling ridiculously weak and mixed up. The strange feeling in his head had doubled a few times, and now it was giving him a headache.

Bakura had never suffered such weaknesses before; he'd had no body to feel such things. He could almost begin to sympathise with humans, if this was what they had to work with.

He thought vaguely about his host, and wondered if he should feel sorry about him. It was true he'd taken possession of Ryou numerous times, but never for whole days. He would just retreat back into the Ring whenever he felt the aches of mortality creeping up his host's body.

He couldn't do that now, though. No Millennium Ring to return to. No host to blame.

Bakura felt oddly lost.

He walked down the corridor as fast as he could manage, trying to find the link that wasn't his host, but the one he knew better than anything else now. The tugs of human presence were stronger than the stinging headache, and as he walked he could feel the presence getting stronger.

He didn't realise he'd been running until he flung a door open and leant a hand heavily against the wall to catch his breath. He looked up to see Marik in the room with his back to him, sitting by a bed.

"You're alright," Bakura said after a moment, and closed his eyes shortly against the headache. When he opened them Marik was staring at him, his eyes all watery. Bakura

was starting to recognise that look rather well. Humans used it far too much, and when Marik used it Bakura felt like he should do something. It wasn't fair.

He shook his head, trying to get rid of those disorientating thoughts, trying to reach the link he was sure he had with the human.

He couldn't feel anything though. The link was closed and Marik's face was cold when he spoke;

"Bakura, you're awake," he said, and turned back to the bed.

Bakura straightened and stared at Marik's back. He was still a little breathless, and now he felt foolish for it too. He wasn't sure what had made him run, or why it was so important to run in the first place. But Marik was okay now, so it didn't really matter.

He walked slowly to the tomb keeper's side and stared at the bed, where the man he knew as Odion lay. Bakura looked at him, and didn't know what to think of it.

"He's still unconscious," Marik said distantly. "I thought he'd be better now."

Bakura started to reply, but realised he didn't know what to say. Instead he scraped a chair up next to Marik and sat down. His headache dulled a bit. It was a nice relief.

He noticed Marik's arms twitch, and then the red marks there, like fingernails.

"Your arms-"

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you the Rod," Marik said at the same time.

"The Rod...?"

The Rod had not occurred to Bakura; it probably should have done.

"I know Yami has the Ring," Marik said, his eyes still on the bed. "I guess I lost you another item, instead of gaining you one."

Bakura supposed he had. He realised he wasn't angry about it.

"I've got lots of time. I'm immortal," he reasoned, more to himself than anything else.

He had forgotten about the items, if only for a moment.

He rubbed his temples, and tried to think about what should matter...the human...the Rod...the items.

It was strange; Bakura could not remember a time the items had not been somewhere at the forefront of his mind. They'd always been there, because that was why he existed. It was the only reason he could remember existing sometimes.

He rubbed his head again; the ache was prickling at him.

"Bakura,"

The hand on his shoulder snapped him back to attention.

"Yes?"

Marik looked at him properly; "I...I can't be sure," the human's eyes narrowed a bit; "what I saw inside of you, in the Realm, I mean."

Bakura frowned; "You mean our link?"

"Is that what it was? Is that what made you forget the darkness?"

Bakura tried to think, but it was so hard to remember. The darkness was cunning like that. It would consume you bit by bit, and you wouldn't notice till it was too late. It was rather tiring even trying to remember.

All Bakura knew was that he had liked the dark, and he'd liked Marik pulling him away from it too. He hadn't wanted Marik to get hurt, and yet he knew he'd hurt him...

He looked at the human's marked arms again, and then at his own white hands, scowling. His mind felt skewed, his headache was getting more painful...

"Don't you remember?" Marik asked, his voice soft yet surprised.

Bakura felt the human's hand squeezing his shoulder; he hadn't even been aware that it was still there, and now Marik was staring at the shoulder with strange interest.

Bakura raised his brow; "Marik?"

"Your body," the human said. "It's still so cold."

"What did you expect?"

Marik shrugged; "I don't know. Warmth, I guess. Like a real body."

Bakura was confused by his disappointment.

"Well, I'm still dead mostly," he felt he should remind the tomb keeper, "Being a three thousand year old Spirit usually indicates that."

"I know," Marik said waspishly. Then he removed his hand only to replace it on the Spirit's chest.

Bakura would have jumped back, if not for the combination of the chair and a stilling shock. Instead he just sat stiffly, staring at Marik's hand on his chest. It wasn't an uncomfortable sensation, but it was uncomfortable experience.

"Er," he said. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for the heartbeat, stupid,"

"Oh." Bakura covered his confusion with a frown. Marik's hand pressed against him a little harder, and Bakura saw the tomb keepers face light up.

"There, I found it," Marik said. "You're not dead, that proves it. Here, like mine," Marik snatched Bakura's hand and placed it on his own chest.

Bakura felt the vibrating movement beneath his palm before he could protest. It was fascinating and warm, and if he closed his eyes he could imagine being back in the Shadow Realm, making sure Marik was alright in his body.

"Can you feel it?" Marik sounded close.

Bakura opened his eyes and nodded. He pulled his hand away from Marik's chest and felt his own.

It had a beat, but it was cold and almost too hard against his palm. It didn't feel right.

He turned away from Marik; "You shouldn't give your dark half so much credit. I'm a Spirit, and his powers cannot make me properly alive."

Marik's body jerked, like he'd been stung. He turned to the bed again. "I don't give himcredit, Bakura. Look what he did to my family...my _brother_, it drove us all apart."

"Darkness will do that," Bakura nodded. "It's a manifestation of your own hate. You can't expect it to bring about anything good, surely?"

Marik looked at him, his face hard; "My darkness _murdered_ my father, Bakura," the tomb keeper's eyes grew large, as though he'd only just realised his own words; "...my sister, she told me that, just today."

Bakura remembered conversations with Marik in the Soul Room. He looked at the ceiling; "but you hated your father."

"Not enough to _kill_ him!"

Bakura shook his head. All he'd ever heard of Marik's father had been hateful words, and Marik's own hateful face to go with them. Marik should have been pleased that the miserable human was gone.

Human logic baffled Bakura once again.

He closed his eyes; the headache was still there but it was tolerable for now. His link with Ryou still existed; he could feel the familiar human presence and knew he could open it if he desired. Marik's presence was strongest, though. Almost overwhelming, and so distracting.

"I need to get the items," he spoke aloud, like that might clear his head.

"Bakura?"

Bakura looked at Marik, and easily recognised the unbearable human emotion set on his face.

He still knew humans, even if he didn't always understand their actions.

He knew the way Marik looked at Odion. He knew the expression on Marik's sister's face in the dark bedroom last night. And most of all he knew the forgiveness in the Pharaoh's eyes when he'd looked at Marik.

Bakura didn't need to connect with such emotions to know what they meant. But it was still rather unpleasant to realise.

"So you will be helping the Pharaoh now, then?" he asked.

Marik bowed his head; "I'm sorry."

It was what Bakura had expected, but it was still hard not to feel some sort of upset. He stood up and started towards the door, not paying Marik's voice proper notice.

"Where are you going?" the tomb keeper called after him.

"To get back my Millennium Ring back, of course."

8

The lounge was big and included a few of Yugi's unbearable friends.

Yugi was sitting at the table, along with Bakura's host Ryou, who was smiling in between mouthfuls of food. The woman Bakura remembered as Marik's sister, and who had not minded him, was also there.

Sprawled out on the couch was the one called Duke, and he was talking with a sweet face to the girl Serenity. Standing over them, looking very angry about what was happening on the couch, was Tristan.

They all noticed Bakura, and their faces changed to varying levels of apprehension. Except for Marik's sister, who was indifferently eating strange food from a bowl.

"Sleep alright?" she asked.

Bakura was almost too surprised to answer her. He managed a nod and ignored the hand that shadowed his shoulder. He knew Marik would follow him.

"Bakura, don't," the human said, so only he could hear.

Bakura shrugged him off and walked to the table. Yugi and his Puzzle were there.

"How are you, little brother?" Ishizu said to Marik.

"Better," Marik smiled nervously, and followed Bakura.

Bakura kept ignoring him and glared round the table.

His host was watching his plate, his smile having vanished along with the conversation that had been fluttering about the room. Nobody was talking and everyone was trying to look like they weren't watching him.

Humans were not very good at that sort of thing, and Bakura easily caught Yugi's eye.

The boy's mouth formed a thin sort of smile; "hey," he said, almost a question.

Bakura ignored him and looked at the Puzzle hanging round his neck. The Pharaoh was almost definitely watching, and Bakura hated him for it.

"So, you're the guy who tried to kill everyone that time, right?" Duke said from the couch, like he was remembering a trip to the park.

Serenity coughed, like humans did when they didn't want an awkward situation. Bakura didn't mind, he didn't care what any of them thought of him anyway.

"That's right," he grinned, and sat opposite Yugi. He noticed Yugi hold his cup tighter, and then how his host pretended his food was the most interesting thing in the world.

Bakura smiled pleasantly, enjoying their squirming and imagining the Pharaoh's angry face inside of the Puzzle. This could be fun.

"Would you like a Pepsi?" Marik's sister asked, coming to the table.

"Pepsi?" Bakura repeated.

"It's a drink," Ryou said helpfully. "I prefer milkshake, personally." he blushed when everyone looked at him, then he went back to his extremely interesting sandwich.

Bakura shook his head; "No wonder the Pharaoh is always taking control of your body during duels, Yugi. You humans are not especially bright, are you?"

"You're the one who doesn't know what a Pepsi is," Marik pointed out. He was sitting at the table now, his face more worried than annoyed.

"I didn't frequent my host enough to learn about different drinks," Bakura glared at the Puzzle. "Unlike some, I used my host only when it was completely necessary."

Ryou looked up from pretending to eat his food, his eyes cautious on Bakura.

Yugi frowned, which wasn't very threatening on his face; "At least Yami doesn't possess me unwillingly."

"That so?" Bakura grinned. "Did you have any control last night, when your dear Pharaoh was trying to throttle me?"

Yugi didn't say anything; he couldn't, because at that moment the Puzzle began to glow and the Pharaoh was suddenly in Yugi's place. He glared furiously at Bakura.

"Proves my point," Bakura said "Sleep well, Pharaoh?

"What do you want, Spirit?"

Bakura smiled; "I just want my item back. It wasn't very nice of you to take it from me like that."

"I need the Millennium items," the Pharaoh said coldly. "I'm keeping the Ring."

"You need them?" Bakura quirked a brow. "Well, we're working toward the same goal then, aren't we?" He leaned forward on the table, easily feeling the crackle of tension between himself and the other Spirit.

There was definitely an unknown link there, that neither of them had bothered tapping into.

"What are you getting at, Bakura?" the Pharaoh moved back in his chair, looking highly suspicious.

"Isn't it obvious? We both need the all Millennium items together, so why not help each other to get them? You already have my Ring. I may know where the others are."

"I already know the Rod is in the Shadow Realm," the Pharaoh said dismissively. "I spoke with Marik about it this morning."

Bakura turned to the human he knew best. Marik looked awkward, his faint smile falling away.

"I couldn't exactly keep it a secret," the tomb keeper said rather helplessly.

Bakura shook his head; it shouldn't be so surprising that Marik had done that. He looked at the Pharaoh again; "Far too assuming, as usual Pharaoh. I know about more than just the Rod."

The Pharaoh's face flashed suspicious interest, and everyone else stared at Bakura, like they expected him to tell them everything he knew all at once. Bakura smirked; humans always expected to get things the easy way first.

The Pharaoh's chair creaked forwards as he leaned across the table, his eyes narrowing; "Well, are you going to tell me," he said in a dark voice, face straining to stay anywhere near patient; "Or am I going to have to force you?"

It was Ryou who grabbed the Pharaoh's arm, pulling him back with surprising force.

"_Please_! Let's not fight!"

Everyone stared at Ryou like he'd only just appeared in the room.

Ryou shrugged; "I just hate it, that's all." he looked between Bakura and the Pharaoh with a beseeching face. "Can't you two try not to kill each other, just for a few minutes?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Marik nodded, smiling across the table at Ryou.

Bakura looked between them both; it was disconcerting how alike they both were in that moment.

"I'm sorry," the Pharaoh said to the table, and grimaced when he looked at Bakura. "Will you tell me what you know of the other items, Bakura?"

"I will, if you give me the Ring back first," Bakura leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, enjoying the impatience that danced under the Pharaoh's face. "Then I might be kind enough to summon the Realm and retrieve the Rod for you. Think of it as my apology present." he thought for a moment; "I saved your human friends too. Don't tell me that isn't worth something to you?"

Someone snorted on the couch; "don't listen to him, Yami," it was Tristan.

The Pharaoh's face was mostly suspicious, but Bakura detected the uncertainty there too. He grinned; maybe the Pharaoh would be easier to convince than he'd thought.

The Pharaoh shook his head after a long minute; "No, Bakura. There's no way you're using the Ring again, no matter what the purpose."

Bakura twirled a spoon in his hand; "Shame. Guess it'll have to be the hard way then, hm?"

"Hard way?" Marik sounded worried.

"There's no way about it, Bakura. You're not getting the Ring back."

"Maybe it could be an idea."

Everyone stared at Ryou like he might be an alien for a second time.

"What?" said Bakura.

"I mean," Ryou looked very meek, and talked very fast; "we need all the items, don't we? So it couldn't hurt to get the Rod back. I think...I think the Spirit knows the Shadow Realm better than any of us," he looked down at his plate; "well, it was just a thought."

Bakura gave Ryou a careful glance over. This human had been surprising him quite a bit recently.

"See?" he smiled at the Pharaoh, "even my harmless little host approves."

"Well I don't."

Bakura turned to Marik. The human's eyes were flashing a worry that Bakura was very familiar with now, and it was more than a little bewildering in that moment.

"What?" Bakura snapped at the tomb keeper.

"Isn't there another way?" Marik looked straight at the Pharaoh, avoiding Bakura's gaze, which was annoying because Bakura wanted the human to see just how angry he was.

"There is another way," the Pharaoh nodded; "My Puzzle can summon the Realm too."

Bakura snorted; "why would you do that! You may as well cut your losses, send someone you really hate to do the job. You can always hope he won't come back again, right?"

"Bakura!" Marik looked shocked.

"I like that idea," said Tristan.

The Pharaoh just glared at Bakura; "Believe me, it's a tempting offer. But I know you're up to something, Bakura. And with the Ring I know what you could do to us."

"The Shadow Realm?" Bakura sneered; "Why are you even afraid, Pharaoh? You just said yourself, you have the Puzzle."

"I'm not _afraid_," the Pharaoh's voice shook with anger. "I just don't trust you with the Ring."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Bakura tipped his head; "But you can't deny I could help you get the Rod back."

"Why would you help me?"

Bakura rolled his eyes; "we both need all the items together. Were you even listening?"

"That's not the question," the Pharaoh narrowed his eyes; "_why_ would you help me?"

"Does it matter?" Bakura grinned, feeling wicked; "Or are you still so proud and conceited that you can't accept someone else's help? Same old Pharaoh, same old arrogant ways-"

The table suddenly flew forwards, and Bakura jumped back before it could catch him, but too late to avoid the furious weight of the Pharaoh and his angry fists. Bakura hit the ground fast, and felt a dull pain on his face for only a few seconds. He clawed at the face in front of him, mildly satisfied to hear the Pharaoh's pained cry, before the weight came away with a sudden shriek.

Bakura scrambled upright, only to find two sets of hands holding his arms, preventing him from rushing at the Pharaoh. He recognised Marik's death grip fingers on his wrist.

The Pharaoh was being restrained too, by Tristan and Duke. Serenity was standing nearby, rather pale.

"Please, I thought we weren't going to be killing each other, just for a few minutes?" Ryou's voice was despairing and close to Bakura.

"Well that plan pretty much failed then, didn't it?" Joey said from the doorway. Tea was standing next to him, holding a tray of drinks.

"I take it we missed all the action?" she stared at the mess of plates and cups on the floor.

"Not really," Duke shook his head and managed to look disappointed, "There wasn't even any Realm type action."

88

.

Marik held onto Bakura's wrist as hard as he could. The Spirit was strong in his rage, but Marik had Ryou and Ishizu helping him, and their combined efforts kept the struggling to a minimum.

"That was bad, really, _really _bad,_ really _bad," Ryou was repeating a nervous mantra, somewhere on the other side of Bakura.

"It's alright, we can all just calm down," Ishizu looked at Bakura, who was starting to let up a little, but still growling profanities.

"_Let go_," the Spirit tugged sharply away from Ryou, and it took all Marik's strength to hold onto the Spirit himself. He wasn't going to let go, he wasn't afraid.

Ryou backed off, bumping against Ishizu as she released Bakura. Her face was a calm contrast to Ryou's.

They had reached Marik's bedroom somehow, and Marik elbowed the door open, dragging the Spirit with him.

Bakura staggered in and managed to wrench himself free. He turned on Marik, his eyes full of contained rage.

Marik ignored this - he had to - and turned to Ryou and Ishizu, who stood in the doorway with their contrasting faces.

"It'll be fine. I'm going to talk to him," Marik nodded at his sister. He gave Ryou a weak smile. "It _will_ be fine."

Ryou looked very distressed; "I just don't want the evil Spirit murdering you to be on my conscious, that's all."

"He won't," Marik said, then considered. "Maybe hang around for a bit, though. If you hear me scream-"

"I'll bravely go and fetch Yami," Ryou nodded.

Marik grinned; "thanks." he looked at his sister, who was smiling a bit too. "Speak soon, sis."

He shut the door and locked it fast. Too late to change his mind now. He could almost feel Bakura's intense hate behind him. It was almost too tempting to just run back out the door.

Marik turned round very slowly.

Bakura was eyeing him, posed to attack at any moment. He was furious, but it didn't frighten Marik so much. This rage was real, and it was nothing like Bakura in the Shadow Realm.

"Let me out _now_," Bakura hissed.

Marik leaned back against the door and shook his head. "Don't think so."

Bakura gaped at him; "You want me to _make_ you?" his voice rose with his incredulity. "Is that what you want?"

"You know you won't do that," Marik said.

"You...what?" Bakura looked plainly shocked.

"I know you won't," Marik swallowed. He didn't know, he didn't know at all, but he needed to try. "You won't hurt me."

"You don't know _what_ I'll do," Bakura snapped. "Don't play games with me."

Marik folded his arms. He saw the hesitation in the Spirit's eyes, and he felt a bit more confident. "I thought you _liked_ games?"

Bakura snarled but didn't say anything.

Marik ignored his own thumping heart; "And I thought I knew you so well, too_,_" he played back what Bakura had told him in the Realm, it was easy to remember frightening things like that.

Bakura seemed to remember that, too. His eyes widened, and his lip curled nastily. He stepped forwards.

"I told you, _don't play with me. _Let me out, _now_,"

Marik moved a hand behind his back, feeling for the handle of the door.

"You'll have to make me then," his mouth felt dry.

He watched, feeling his hope diminish as Bakura advanced; his eyes dangerous and his mouth set in a snarl. Marik could feel the anger sparking off the Spirit, it was almost tangible, the closer he got.

They were barely inches from each other, and Marik grasped the door handle in a slippery hand, gritting his teeth. Maybe Ryou was going to have to live with that guilty conscience after all.

The last thing he looked at was Bakura's burning eyes, before he squeezed his own shut. It was too much;

"_I don't want you to go back there!_" he cried. "I won't let you!"

There was a thick silence; and Marik braced himself, expecting something painful to connect with his face at any second.

All he felt was the strange suffocating heat of anger dissipate away from him, and then Bakura's voice, rather quiet;

"What?"

Marik cracked his eyes open. Bakura had stepped back, and his expression had surrendered to blank confusion. His arms were hanging at his sides, all anger forgotten.

"What do you mean?" the Spirit said.

Marik grimaced. There was no point in being delicate; Bakura wouldn't understand any other way;

"I don't want you to go back to the Shadow Realm," Marik said. "It's dangerous...you don't...you'll go into the Shadows again..."

Bakura stared; his pale face was still all confused, and Marik wanted to shake him.

"Don't you _understand_?" he snapped. And he grabbed the Spirit's shoulders, almost shaking him anyway. "I don't want you to disappear!"

Bakura looked steadily at Marik's eyes. "Why would I disappear?"

Marik shook his head, despairing; "you don't remember, do you? The dark nearly took you away, Bakura-"

"I _do_ remember," Bakura said, and he stared at Marik's hand on his shoulder. He seemed to consider it for a few seconds, then he frowned at the ground; "I suppose I just picked you instead."

Marik blinked, his hands on the Spirit went slack in his own surprise. "What?"

At that moment a voice emitted timidly from the other side of the door;

"Er, I heard yelling. Shall I get Yami?" Ryou's voice.

"No, no," Marik shook his head at the door, "It's fine, Ryou. You can go, if you like."

"Oh, um, okay."

Marik turned back to Bakura. The Spirit had stepped away from him, his expression careful.

"I just want to get the item back," he said.

Marik lowered his arms, still feeling the warm traces of Bakura against his palms. But the revelation had gone now.

"The Rod?" Marik asked weakly.

Bakura nodded. "I still need-"

"The Millennium items, I know."

Marik moved to the bed and sat down. His head was aching a bit; he couldn't tell how much of it was Bakura's link, or just his own reeling thoughts.

For a little while Marik had thought he could hate Bakura. It should have been easy; the Spirit had helped his darkness, it had no moral code. It didn't even exist as a human.

But Marik had woke up that morning and Bakura had been there, fast asleep and uncomfortable looking. Marik had watched him a bit, remembering everything that had happened in the Realm, and the way Bakura had looked when the darkness had started to fall.

He wasn't that creature right now, just as he wasn't when Marik had found his link, or something within in. Whatever it was, it was different and did not belong to the dark.

Marik stared up at Bakura, who was still watching him with a guarded face.

"I want to help you," Marik started. "But-"

Bakura watched the bed. "Don't apologise. I know you can't help me with the items anymore."

"No, it's not that. Well, not just that-"

Bakura shook his head; "I just forgot for a while."

"Forgot what?"

"That you're still all human," Bakura leaned back against the wall, and looked at the ceiling; "your dark half escaped for that reason."

Marik bit his lip; "My dark half has been a part of me for a long time, Bakura. I just never realised it till now."

"Maybe so, but he broke away from you when he realised you wouldn't be a part of him-"

"-that's when I retreated to your Soul Room," Marik realised.

"Yes," Bakura nodded, "you saved your own soul in a way. It's to be expected, though. Humans don't cope well with the dark. They'll do anything to get away from it."

"Are we so predictable?" Marik found himself smiling a bit.

Bakura tipped his head; "In some ways." he frowned; "Well, your hiding place was a little surprising."

"The Ring was a safe place,"

Bakura shrugged; "you didn't have to choose the Ring. Anyone else's body would have done as a temporary host."

"I knew I was safe with you," Marik said at once.

Bakura looked at Marik with odd interest.

Marik felt himself heat up. He cleared his throat and looked at the floor; "I mean...I knew...It seemed the best place to be at the time," he looked at his lap; "...and I thought I might try and trust you. You got my body back okay, right?"

"I guess," Bakura looked hesitant, and he rolled his eyes to the locked door.

Marik had forgotten all about that; but he watched with happy surprise as Bakura sank down the wall into a sitting position. He wasn't going anywhere.

"If you can trust me now, you should know I'm only going back to the Realm for the Rod." Bakura said after a long moment.

Marik gritted his teeth. "But you can't know-"

"You said you trusted me."

"It's not as easy as that!" Marik said. "What about my dark half!"

"He shouldn't be there anymore. Not in any real form anyway. He was consumed by the Shadows."

Marik stared at Bakura, hoping he was right; "How are you so sure?"

Bakura ignored the question, and looked very thoughtful; "your sister seemed to tolerate me."

Marik was confused; "What?"

"She didn't mind me staying in your room. She wasn't afraid of me," Bakura explained patiently.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Marik was suddenly alarmed. "Do you like my sister?"

Bakura rolled his eyes; " I _know_ she has the Necklace, Marik."

"Oh," said Marik, feeling stupid and relieved all at once. "Yeah, the Necklace."

"I have a plan," Bakura stretched his legs out; "to get the Rod back."

Marik lay back on his bed, and frowned at him; "I promised myself I wouldn't listen to your plans anymore."

"You don't have to help," Bakura was undeterred. "I already said I don't expect it, anymore."

"Then why tell me?"

"I'm just giving you fair warning, really. Since it's your sister, you have the right to know."

Marik sat up fast; "don't you _dare_ get my sister involved, Bakura."

"Calm down. It's just the Necklace I need."

Marik was not comforted; "You're going back, aren't you?" he rubbed an arm over his face, feeling hot and frustrated, "And I can't stop you."

"No, you can't," Bakura agreed, smiling a bit. "But you can trust that I'll come back with the Rod."

"And you're going to give it to the Pharaoh?" Marik asked bleakly.

"I said I'd help collect the items."

Marik shook his head. "You're awfully confident, for saying you don't even have the Ring yet. Just what do you think you'll do? Asking for it back didn't exactly run smoothly, did it?"

Bakura grinned; "well, I was anticipating the hard way."

Marik tipped his head, entirely confused. "What's that, then?"

"Marik, are you forgetting what I am?"

"Erm," Marik pretended to think. "Taking into account recent events...a complete

lunatic?"

"You cut really deep," Bakura smirked, and shook his head. "I'm a _thief_. And I plan to put the title to good use very soon."

Marik stared at the Spirit, feeling hopeless. There was no reasoning with him; Bakura would do what he wanted, and whatever Marik said otherwise wasn't going to change anything.

It wouldn't have been half so bad, if he didn't care what happened to the Spirit.

"I'm not helping you," he sighed, watching Bakura move to the door.

"I know."

Marik lay down and faced the wall, listening as the door clipped shut. His head was running with too many thoughts, and he felt Bakura's link warm and familiar amongst them.

There was a gentle tap at the door;

"You're not dead in there, are you?" Ryou asked.

88


	7. The Shaking Shield

**Chapter 7 **

**The Shaking Shield**

Marik was awoken in the very early hours of morning by a headache he recognised, and it made him feel sick.

He didn't have much time to think on it though. The shadow of his sister was by the bed, and even in the dark he could see her frightened eyes. She was clutching the bed sheets;

"Marik, something terrible is happening," her voice was scared and apologetic.

"What do you mean?" Marik sat up, ignoring that familiar buzzing in his head, trying to find the reason behind his sisters panic; she was always so good at being calm. She was safe to look at when things went wrong. Right now it was hard to find anything like that, though. "What's wrong, Ishizu?"

Ishizu did not say anything, but she held her hand to her chest where the Millennium item always was.

It was not there.

88

It had been easy to steal the Necklace.

It was the first thing Bakura had noticed about Marik's sister, besides her oddly kind eyes, the way she seemed to want to trust him. Given that, it was almost tempting to just try and charm the Necklace away from her, but Bakura could recognise she was careful too. Just because she might have looked at him like that, didn't mean she would trust him anyway.

Marik had trusted him, that was what made them different.

Bakura would have been scornful; it was the best thing to be around humans who were like that. Those sorts got whatever was coming to them. But Marik was different, and Marik had proven him wrong about something.

This human had trusted him, and it was a gutsy move that had made Bakura want to be trusted. Marik was probably too naive, but he was also more daring and interesting than anything else Bakura had happened across in a long time. He knew that Marik never really feared him, he knew that Marik possibly _liked _him.

Humans weren't supposed to be like that with him. Bakura wasn't supposed to be like that with humans. Somehow it made it more interesting.

With this in mind, Bakura would get the Rod and nothing else. He wanted to see Marik's happy surprise when he returned.

The plan had been simple enough. Bakura needed the Necklace so that he might track down the whereabouts of the Ring. It'd only been a vague guess, but Bakura knew that the Ring attracted the powers of the other items, so it seemed plausible that the Necklace might work in the same way.

Right now he was crouched by Yugi's bed debating whether or not to open the bedside cabinet. The Necklace was glowing warmly in his hands, telling him he was close to an item. It didn't really matter if it was the Puzzle or the Ring, both could summon the Realm, but Bakura rather hoped it was the Ring. More personal.

He took a tiny breath, keeping his eyes fixed on Yugi's sleeping form, and opened the cabinet. It didn't make a sound, and before him was the Millennium Ring, all it's sharp points directed at him, like it recognised it's owner.

Bakura shook his head and grinned a bit as he took it back. He had thought the Pharaoh might be a bit more imaginative with his hiding places. It was almost disappointing.

No matter, Bakura exited the room smoothly, replacing the Ring around his neck so that it jostled with the Necklace.

He considered where to go; the blimp was problematic in that it was rather contained. You couldn't just go down a handy and suspicious looking dark alley to summon the Shadow Realm on a blimp.

Bakura peered up the stairs of the stretch of corridor. The platform would have to do.

Outside, the air cut round his face, cold and refreshing all at once. It was a welcomed sensation; Bakura still felt a little unsteady in his own body, and weaker and tireder than he should have been.

He held the Ring in front of him, and remembered Marik's scared face. The tomb keeper had not wanted Bakura to return to the Realm, and Bakura could understand it to some extent. He didn't think the human should worry so much though.

The surroundings became blurred with Shadow as he summoned the Realm, and he focussed completely on the Rod.

8

The original black quilt that had resided above him had thinned out into a misty cloud. Bakura did not pay it much attention, and it didn't seem interested in him either. He peered round, searching for a presence he expected to be strong. If the item was here he should find it easily enough.

The figure that stepped out of the shadow moved with a gentle ease, and his face, as it crept into the purplish light, looked almost hospitable.

"Back so soon?" Dark Marik asked.

Bakura felt cold as he took in the person stood opposite him.

He was not often wrong, but now he remembered Marik's anxious words about his dark half, and how he might still be there. Bakura had thought that was stupid, now he realised Marik had just been right.

"I shouldn't be surprised you're here," Dark Marik laughed through Bakura's stony silence. "you can't resist, can you?"

Bakura ignored him; "why are you still here? The darkness should have taken you by now."

Dark Marik snorted, and for the first time Bakura noticed the Millennium Rod rolling in his hand playfully. "I already told you, Spirit. I am not human. Do you really think the Realm can affect me like that?"

Bakura shook his head; "no. But I did expect you to be dead by now."

"Oh, you're so kind to me," Dark Marik crooned. "Tell me, how is my weaker half doing? I expect not so well, considering what you did-"

"-he's _fine_," Bakura said through his teeth, curling his hands.

"Surprising. Humans are stronger than we think, aren't they?"

"Not really. Just surprising."

"I suppose," Dark Marik rolled his eyes around thoughtfully; "still, it hardly lends credence to the idea that you might protect him."

Bakura folded his arms; "I don't think that matters. I came here for the Rod, and that's all. Are you going to give it me willingly or not?"

"Oh, I thought you'd want this," Dark Marik grinned at the item fondly. "The precious item of my weaker half, makes sense he would want it back."

"I have two items with me," Bakura said. "I can take the Rod with ease if I have to."

"I can see that," Dark Marik looked impressed. "Doesn't take you long to get what you want, does it?"

Bakura shrugged; "being a thief has it's uses, I suppose," he took a step forwards. He didn't like to stall for time, he just wanted the Rod and then he would leave. He'd told Marik that, and that was what he would do.

"Why do you want the Rod?" Dark Marik asked.

"You already know, it's Marik's item."

"Yes, of course," Dark Marik said; "but why do _you_ want it, Spirit?"

Bakura gave him a quizzical look. "What do you mean?"

Dark Marik laughed; "You don't expect me to believe you're returning the Rod just to feel good about yourself?"

Bakura considered; "I'm returning it because I said I would."

"Really?" Dark Marik's eyes widened with his grin; " That's _noble_, Spirit, very noble. If highly amusing!"

Bakura tilted his head; "I'm failing to see the funny side."

"I'm not expecting you to get it," Dark Marik was even more amused and he shook his head. He cleared his throat when he looked at Bakura again, as though feigning a serious conversation. "Right, Spirit. Is that all you're really here, for? Nothing else I can tempt you with at all?"

Bakura watched him closely. He was quite aware of the smoky mist that was teasing at his limbs now, trying to remind him of something he had wanted. He chose to ignore it. It was easier to do when he remembered Marik last night.

"I'm afraid not. Just the Rod, please." he said pleasantly.

Dark Marik grinned, like he was realising something that Bakura knew too. Bakura couldn't understand what it might be, but he felt the connection between them spark before anything else could register. It was the same feeling of the swarm in his Soul Room, and the darkness that had made him forget and remember things before.

It must have happened in only a few seconds, because before Bakura knew it the Rod's powers were simmering around him. He cursed his own carelessness and then shielded himself with the Necklace and the Ring at once.

Their combined strength managed to cut away the barrier, but not as well as Bakura had expected. As the Rod's powers fell away, Bakura stared at Dark Marik, feeling breathless.

"You got more powerful?"

"Are you so surprised?"

"But the dark is supposed to consume you," Bakura reasoned, more to himself.

Dark Marik laughed; "it doesn't consume me, it just lends me more strength. Please tell me you remember that, at least?"

Bakura scowled; "you're not the same as me, your powers shouldn't come from the dark."

"It's interesting, isn't it?" Dark Marik said.

He laughed as he held the Rod up, but he didn't use it. Instead a vast cloud of black rushed from behind him, toward Bakura. Bakura braced himself barely; the dark ran across his body but didn't attack it. Instead the pain crashed into his head.

It was the headache he'd had earlier, only made more awful. Within it he felt the pull of the link he had with Marik. It was being peeled back and opened up.

"No!" Bakura growled, and shut his eyes tight. He knew how the dark worked, he could fend it off if he concentrated.

The items glowed against his chest, as he steered the dark energy away and back to it's owner.

He opened his eyes and saw Dark Marik was frowning.

"That's not supposed to happen," he said.

Bakura grinned, enjoying the confusion on his face; "_are you so surprised_?" he mimicked the other's question. "You think you're the only one who knows this sort of stuff? Don't be a fool."

Dark Marik shook his head; "No, I wasn't aiming for you."

Bakura straightened a bit; "what?"

"I wasn't aiming for you, Spirit," Dark Marik repeated impatiently.

"What exactly was your aim?" Bakura muffled a cough. "Because it's not very good, is it?"

Dark Marik's frowning face broke into a wild laughter Bakura was learning to hate. He turned on his heel, almost doubled up in his deranged joy, and maybe forgetting Bakura's presence for a few seconds.

Bakura saw the advantage, and he shot the shadow magic from his Ring without thought. It hit Dark Marik, and he reeled back, although his groan was lost in more loud laughter.

The very little patience Bakura had left was rushing away; "are you going to let me in on your little joke?" he called, voice echoing about the nothing of the Realm.

"A joke?" Dark Marik turned round enough so that Bakura could see his odd smile. His tongue dashed over his lips like he was tasting the words he was about to deliver and loving them. "I guess it's no surprise, I should have seen this, really."

"_Explain_," Bakura growled.

"Very well," Dark Marik straightened up, holding the Rod like a proper weapon now. His eyes narrowed; "it seems that my powers will not reach the ones I most want to harm. Your presence has created a barrier before them. A sort of shield, I suppose."

Bakura watched cagily as Dark Marik began pacing, as though retelling a wild story to himself;

"It's pretty funny, really," he said, "To think your own powers could be used in such a way. And quite clever too," Dark Marik faced Bakura; expression full of interest; "are you even aware of it, Spirit? Was that even your intention?"

Bakura wouldn't give the other the satisfaction of his own confusion; "I just want the Millennium items safe," he glared meaningfully at the Rod.

Dark Marik grinned; "still with the items, are we? I wonder, would you even protect the Pharaoh from my wrath, for the sake of the Puzzle?"

"Is that what you're after?" Bakura thought it would make sense.

Dark Marik raised the Rod; "what does that matter now? It's just a shame you don't want to cooperate, Spirit."

The Rod's powers rushed at Bakura again, and he barely managed to set the Ring and Necklace into action, deflecting what was left of the blow away.

His body felt most of it, he'd been too careless. He gripped the Ring and Necklace tight in his fist and directed their power back at Dark Marik, but Dark Marik hardly swayed. He was so strong, even with just the Rod...

"Why do you bother protecting them?" Dark Marik asked as he began to walk toward him. "what would they ever do in way of thanks?"

More bright yellow, like lightning, streaked from the Rod, and Bakura felt the aura of his items' defences shaking and struggling against it. Dark Marik was getting closer, and his own efforts did not seem to be having much of an effect at all.

He tried to focus; "I don't care about thanks. I only need the Rod."

Dark Marik was right in front of him. Bakura glared; he was good at that, and he wouldn't back down. The Rod was so close.

Dark Marik tipped his head, his hot breath was closer. "Your shield is very strong. I have to admire that."

Bakura did not know what he meant; "I came back for the Rod," he repeated, and then he snapped a hand fast and tight around the item. "I don't mean to go back on my word."

"Your word?" Dark Marik asked, not seeming to notice Bakura's grip, or his sharp eyes. He smiled and looked a bit sorry as he tilted his head forwards.

The wave of dark met Bakura's mind too quickly this time.

It was more than pain; for a moment it was like falling into oblivion and drowning in it's nothing. Something was tearing into his mind, and it was savage and merciless. Bakura could hardly breathe, but he looked up, feeling his hand slip away from the Rod and then his whole body slipping to the floor. Dark Marik was grinning down at him;

"It's a shame. What the human spirit makes you do."

The creeping dark suddenly engulfed the grinning face, and then Dark Marik was gone.

Bakura choked, his lungs felt scratchy and stinging, and his head was buzzing. He felt a familiar link flashing in his mind. It was broken away and frightened and shaking.

_Marik_ was frightened.

Bakura gathered the two items around his neck with a trembling relief, and closed his eyes, falling away from the Realm.

He needed to get to Marik.

88

Marik's room was cast in a sick greenish glow, and Yami was doing his best to fend off it's source, but with little success.

Dark Marik had arrived so fast, closely after Ishizu's troubled words and Marik's scream. Since Bakura was the only one nobody could find, it didn't take genius detective work to know that the Spirit had something to do with this.

Yami thought vaguely, if he ever survived, he should probably kill Bakura, or at least maim him so that nothing like this would happen again. It would solve a few of their problems, but not the current one.

Dark Marik was standing close to the bed, but not close enough to get to Marik. It didn't make much difference; Marik still looked like he was in all sorts of pain, without his dark half having to lay a finger on him.

Ishizu huddled next to her brother, trying to calm him, but his cries were awful and loud, drowning out any sense of reason.

Yami focussed on the Puzzle, trying to pull out what remained of it's power. It was usually so strong, but now he could feel himself weakening, and he was the only thing stopping the dark creature from getting anywhere close to Marik.

"I thought he was dead," said Duke from the doorway, looking at Dark Marik like he might be a fly ready to be swatted. "Did I miss something?"

"I think we all did," Tea said, her voice drowned out by the Rod in that moment, as a stem of yellow almost broke through Yami's defences.

He couldn't keep this up. This Dark Marik was far stronger than he'd imagined.

On the bed, Marik was starting to shake terribly, and he was holding his head as he had been on the blimp, when his dark half had first appeared.

The strength of the dark half cut through Yami's defence then, and he sank to his knees. He was fighting a losing battle.

"Yami!" there were mixed cries all about the room, but everybody was helpless.

Then the door burst open, almost knocking Ryou for six. He teetered on his feet and everyone turned round to find Bakura standing there, the Ring and Necklace bright and jangling round his neck.

He stormed forward and directed the items' glow at Dark Marik.

Yami felt the tension around him ease a bit, and he stood up. He had some help now. Even if it was Bakura, he wasn't going to ask why or complain about it. The Spirit seemed to be helping him, and with three items against one, it was a bit easier.

It should have been much easier, but it still took all Yami's strength to fight down the onslaught of Dark Marik's attack. Around him, Yami heard mingling cries that didn't mean anything, Marik's awful screams on the bed, and his sister's tears. In his mind Yami could hear Yugi;

"_You've nearly done it! He's almost gone!"_

Yami opened his eyes; they'd been tight shut in all his concentration; and now he was on his knees again, gasping for breath. The room was quiet; Dark Marik wasn't there anymore.

"He's gone!" Joey exclaimed victoriously.

"Only to the Shadow Realm," said a hoarse voice.

Near to him Yami could hear Bakura's heavy breathing, and he looked sideways to see the Spirit kneeling there, the two Millennium items dangling dully round his neck.

On impulse, Yami reached to grab them, but two hands pulled him back.

"_Sit down_," it was Tea's voice. "You're going to pass out,"

Yami didn't realise he'd stood up so fast, and so had Bakura. The Spirit seemed to relax again too as Yami sank back down, all his strength drained away. Yami could barely hear Yugi's faint voice through their link.

"_Are you alright, Yami?"_

Yami ignored the voice, keeping his eyes on Bakura; "You," he said darkly, "You stole the items."

Bakura didn't seem to hear him. He walked over to the bed, where Marik was still shaking against Ishizu. The Spirit's hand seemed to hover unsteadily close to Marik's arm, before deciding not do anything at all.

"Are you alright?" the Spirit asked quietly instead.

Marik looked hot and dizzy, his face turned into Ishizu's chest. He didn't say anything.

Ishizu gave Bakura a careful look; "he's alright."

Bakura nodded, and then he pulled the Necklace off and gave it to Ishizu. "I couldn't get the Rod," he said.

"Nobody told you to," Yami hissed, and managed to stand up with Tea's help. "So hand the Ring over _now._"

"I'd rather not."

"Hey, hand it back you maniac," Joey said fiercely, "we don't want no more of this crazy stuff happening."

Bakura laughed, but his eyes were narrow; "do you think all of this was my doing?"

"Seems kinda that way," said Tristan. "Since you were the one who took the items in the first place."

Bakura shrugged "why would I summon dark Marik here?"

"You shouldn't have taken the items!" Yami growled, and for a second he thought he might make good on his idea to kill the Spirit. The Puzzle glowed readily against him, and he saw Bakura's Ring mimicking it.

"Stop it!" Ryou shrieked, and he ran between them, like that might change anything. Yami knew Bakura wouldn't care if he hit his old host.

"Get out of the way, Ryou," Yami said.

"No, I won't, you two will just have to kill me!"

"Ryou, don't-" Tea started.

"-_I won't move_." Ryou folded his arms, and looked terrified but stubborn. "You'll have to do it. You'll have to kill me too."

"I can live with that," Bakura murmured.

Duke rolled his eyes; "this isn't a very good idea, Ryou."

Ryou turned to Bakura, who was watching him with faint amusement.

"Are you going to hit me, Bakura?" Ryou asked, his voice uneven. "Are you really going to do that?"

"I wouldn't, but you're in the way, so there's a possibility."

Ryou looked crestfallen, and Duke pulled him away from the firing line. Bakura grinned, but Ryou gave him a harsh look;

"I don't know why Marik trusts you."

Bakura's face twisted into something Yami had not seen on him before, like surprise, or maybe even hurt. Whatever it was it didn't look right, it wasn't Bakura. Ryou had touched a nerve.

Yami smirked at the Spirit; "so are we finishing this now?"

"Nobodies finishing anything," Marik said quietly from the bed. He was looking at Bakura, his eyes were wet with tears. "I don't want anymore fights like this, please." he held onto Ishizu, and she murmured something comforting.

Yami felt his anger disappearing, making way for guilt. He could hear Yugi's voice in his mind;

"_We shouldn't be fighting Bakura. He was helping us."_

"_I know, but it's hard for me-"_

"_I can understand that, Pharaoh. But we need to give him the benefit of the doubt, right?"_

Yami could understand but it didn't make it any easier. He watched suspiciously as Bakura moved to Marik again, his face was anxious; "Marik-"

"I don't want to talk," Marik said to the whole room. "Leave me alone."

Bakura stared at him for a moment, then turned away and frowned at the door. "Let me through."

Everyone shuffled awkwardly out of the way as the Spirit stalked out. Yami was tempted to go after him; Bakura still had the Ring. But the tug on his link with Yugi told him to leave it for the moment.

He turned back to the bed; "are you-"

"I meant everyone, not just him." Marik said coldly.

Ishizu gave her brother a questioning glance, and he nodded at her too.

Yami left the room feeling Joey and Tristan at his side, muttering about late nights and early mornings and crazy things that made no sense. It didn't make much sense to Yami either, but he had seen the way Dark Marik looked at his light half, and how determined he'd been to destroy him.

If he'd not gotten there in time with the Puzzle, and if Bakura had not helped...

"_You think Marik's dark half is still out there, Pharaoh?"_ Yugi asked.

"_I'm pretty certain he is. With that Rod, and all that power, he must be."_

Yami returned to his bedroom, where the sky was lightening with the early hours of dawn. He lay down but knew he wouldn't sleep.

"_Bakura won't do anything, not when we've got more items against him." _Yugi spoke through the link, reading his thoughts. _"Try not too worry."_

"_How can I? You know what he is, Yugi. We're not safe, for as long as he has that Ring. And now with Marik's dark half-"_

A hazy light seemed to seep away from the bedroom wall opposite Yami, making his words dissolve. The light was just that for a few seconds, then it formed a figure both Yami and Yugi recognised.

"Shadi," Yami sat up at once; "What are you doing here?"

The turbaned spirit walked to the bed, his face unreadable. "I come to you when the time is right, and when you most need my help."

Yami rubbed his head tiredly; "we could use some help right now, then."

Shadi nodded; "I sense you worry, your suspicions, and your concerns for your friends."

"Is it any wonder? Did you see what just happened, by any chance? The dark Marik-"

"-You don't need to worry about Marik anymore. His darkness left him that night on the blimp. He knows he has done wrong,"

Yami shook his head; "I know that. But what about his dark half? He still exists, doesn't he?"

Shadi eyed the ceiling; "only within certain beings can he find access to you. For now you seem to be safe, though."

"And what about the Spirit, Bakura? He isn't conveniently trapped in the Shadow Realm. We can't trust him."

Shadi looked like he seemed to have expected those words. He nodded in that calm, understanding way of his again, before pulling the Millennium Key from his robe pocket. He held it out to Yami.

"Take it," he said. "It may prove useful, and ease your minds about certain things."

Yami looked at the Key in Shadi's hand. He knew what it was for, he could remember Shadi in his Soul Room well enough.

He nodded slowly as he took the item; "Thank you," When he looked up Shadi was already gone. The room felt cooler, in a comforting sort of way.

"_Are you going to use it?"_ Yugi's voice was apprehensive in his mind.

Yami gripped the Key a little tighter. "I don't know."

"_Maybe we won't need to."_

Yami doubted that. Yugi was far too optimistic sometimes. He shrugged; "well, either way, we have another Millennium item now, whether we use it or not."

He lay back down on the bed, and still he wouldn't sleep. He held the Key in his hand as he watched the pinky morning sky brighten into morning. He wouldn't use the Key, not when Yugi's disapproving thoughts were there, telling him not to. But he remembered Bakura, and he wasn't sure he could promise it.

88

Marik lay in bed, the ache in his head was still there, but not so painful anymore. Every now and then it twinged, and he worried his dark half might be coming back, just as it had done earlier. But so far there had been nothing.

The knock on the door was sharp and the voice matched it; "are you awake?"

"Go away, Bakura."

Marik didn't want to speak to him more than anyone else. He didn't want Bakura to know how scared he'd been, not just for himself, but for the Spirit as well.

"I'm coming in," Bakura's voice said.

"It's locked. Good luck."

Marik watched the door, almost expecting it to burst open along with Bakura's leg. But there was just a little tinkling of metal, and the door opened quietly. Bakura slipped in, face unseeable in the dark.

"How'd you do that?" Marik was surprised.

Bakura wandered leisurely to the bed, and Marik heard his voice move into a smirk. "It's a secret."

"Tell me."

Bakura's shoulders sagged, "It wasn't locked, Marik."

"Oh," Marik sat up. "Well I told you not to come in. I thought you'd listen."

Bakura shook his head; "You know I don't do that," he sat on the edge of the bed, and turned his head away to look at the wall. "Are you alright, then?"

Marik nodded slowly; "I guess. Just a bit achy." he stared at the back of Bakura's head, wanting to see his face. "Are you?"

"Fine."

There was small silence, and Marik spoke into it, feeling almost scared of his own words;

"I thought you said he wouldn't be there."

Bakura took a moment to reply; "I didn't think he would be."

"Then why was he?"

"I don't know."

"Marik leaned forwards; "but you said-"

"I _don't know_." Bakura sounded angry, Marik noticed his shoulders shake. "Why should you expect me to know, Marik?"

"I don't expect you to!" Marik insisted. "I-I guess you know the Shadow Realm better than anyone else I know..." he trailed off, feeling himself quiver; "all I know is he came back for me...like he wanted to finish me off...or something."

Bakura finally turned his head to Marik, and Marik saw his eyes widen.

"He came back for you?" the Spirit asked.

"Well, yeah," Marik shrugged. "From what I remember, anyway. It was that buzzing sound in my head all over again. Then before I knew anything he was standing right above me, with the Rod. He was going to kill me," Marik held the bed covers, like they might offer some comfort. "I was lucky Yami heard everything. He got here with the Puzzle."

"Didn't your dark half want the Puzzle?"

"I, I don't think so." Marik blinked at the Spirit, "do you think that's what it was after?"

Bakura didn't reply, and his silhouette was disconcerting against the dark. Marik crawled over to the bedside lamp, and lit the room in a weak blue light.

He turned back to Bakura, who looked deep in thought and very pale. His eyes were shadowed with circles and he held his Millennium Ring with preoccupied, tapping fingers.

"Bakura-"

"Do you still feel our link, Marik?" the Spirit interrupted.

Marik nodded. He could feel it even now; the exhaustion that seemed to radiate from Bakura's body and touch his own, telling him the Spirit needed to sleep and stop asking stupid, pointless questions...

"Bakura-"

"Did you feel it earlier? I mean just before your dark half appeared?"

"I- maybe..." Marik shook his head; "I really don't know, Bakura," he sighed in frustration; "Do you think it's really the sort of thing I want to remember right now? Or even _talk _about?"

He regretted saying that when he saw the surprise cross Bakura's face, and then the quick way the Spirit cleared his throat, like he might be embarrassed about something. He looked at the Millennium Ring with an angry scowl.

"So you want to be left alone," he started to stand up, but Marik grabbed his wrist.

"No, I don't," he held the Spirit in place, and felt, perhaps through the physical contact, the link between them strengthen a little. "I didn't mean that. Don't listen to me."

Bakura smirked a bit; "I already told you I don't."

Marik grinned, happy that Bakura's face was halfway amiable. "so we have a proper link, then? How do you think it happened?"

Bakura seemed to consider; "I suppose it was formed at some point in the Realm, when you were split from my mind and given your own body again."

Marik nodded; "wouldn't that mean Ryou still has the link with you too?"

"Yes, my host's link still exists." Bakura said, and paused; "How does it feel, being linked to a psycho?" a grin crept on his face.

"Hm," Marik snorted. "So far it's not been much of a picnic," he recalled his headache and winced as he touched his temple.

"What's wrong?" Bakura's voice was stern, and Marik felt the cold hand on his forehead before he could open his eyes again.

He opened them and smirked at the Spirit; "I don't think you're as psycho as you like to think."

Bakura took his hand away in a flash and then he started to get up just as fast; "This isn't just a game, Marik. We need to get the Rod back, and your dark half-" Bakura's eyes suddenly flickered, and Marik caught his arm before he could fall. He guided the Spirit back onto the bed, and Bakura lay back with a groan.

"Never mind my stupid dark half, what's wrong with _you_?" Marik peered over him, feeling concerned. "Have you even had any sleep yet?"

Bakura opened his eyes and looked wary; "perhaps not."

"Have you even _eaten_?"

"I don't need to eat."

Marik shook his head; "You're not very good with this whole body thing, are you?" He pulled Bakura up into a sitting position, and testily put a hand on his forehead.

"What are you talking about?" the Spirit said groggily, and he batted Marik's hand away. "I'm always cold, stupid human."

"Tell me, Bakura," Marik frowned; "How often did you possess your poor host Ryou's body? Perhaps a couple of hours or so at a time?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not anymore," Marik sighed and then tugged the Spirit up by the sleeve, "C'mon, I'm going to teach you how to treat your body like it's not a host's."

They walked down the corridor, and Marik kept a close hold on Bakura, who seemed to be mostly concentrating on not passing out, before encountering Seto Kaiba.

"Wonderful. It's the deadly duo," he said.

Marik frowned, but caught Bakura grinning at the CEO. "We need food, right now."

"Do I look like a waiter?"

"What's a waiter?" Bakura wondered, and had to steady himself against the wall. Marik grabbed his arm tighter.

Kaiba rolled his eyes; "We're landing in Domino City very soon, so good riddance and all of that."

"I'll miss you too," Marik said. "So where is the food?"

"There's breakfast out in the lounge. Some of your other crazy friends are in there too," he looked between them both with a vaguely hopeful face; "Why not finish off that evil plan of yours? It'd save me lots of trouble."

Marik wove past him, and found the kitchen with happy relief. He was happier to see that there was hardly anybody there. Ryou was standing by the toaster and watching it like it couldn't be trusted, and Duke was watching some quiz show on the tv.

"Sit," Marik pointed to the table, and Bakura gave him a scathing look but sat anyway. Marik beamed to himself, it was nice when demented Spirits did as he told them.

Ryou looked at Marik; "oh, are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, quite a bit." Marik nodded. "Do you have any good breakfast suggestions?"

Ryou thought for a moment; "cereal is my best dish. Everyone's always talking about my cereal."

Marik grinned and gave him a light shove. "You're crazy."

"I thought this one was," Duke said from the table. He was watching Bakura with great anticipation, but Bakura was busy watching Marik and Ryou. He was scowling quite a bit.

"Oh, food," Marik remembered. "Yeah, we'll have some of the cereal."

He placed the bowl in front of Bakura, who wrinkled his nose and gave him a suspicious look.

"What is it?"

"It's cereal," Duke said, "Don't you know?"

"_No_," Bakura glared at him, and stabbed his spoon angrily into the bowl.

Marik sat down and watched with some apprehension as Bakura began eating. He was messy but clearly starving, and soon the bowl was empty. The Spirit wiped his mouth and licked his lips. He turned round to where Ryou was still standing next to the toaster.

Ryou gave him a weak sort of smile. "Would you like some toast?"

"If it matches the cereal," Bakura nodded, and Marik was amazed to see him offer Ryou something like a smile.

Ryou was shocked too, and almost electrocuted himself on the toaster because of it.

"You shouldn't do that, it's very disturbing," Duke told Bakura.

"Do what?"

"Smile. It doesn't look right," Duke eyed Bakura's Ring. "So, are you gonna be giving that back now?"

"I don't think so," Bakura shook his head, and smiled a bit more. It didn't look very friendly, and Duke seemed to realise it was wise to shut up.

Ryou fished his burnt toast from the lethal toaster and put it on a plate with an unhappy face. "I told you," he said to Marik. "I can only do cereal."

Marik took a testy bite and spat it out again. He tried to look apologetic, but ended up pulling a face; "erm. Well we can make some more."

Bakura snatched the toast anyway and crunched on it without a word.

"You're eating my charcoaled bread?" Ryou grinned nervously. "You must be hungry."

"Yes," Marik nodded. "Bakura doesn't seem to know how to use a human body properly yet, you see."

Bakura glared round a mouthful of toast; "I know how to _eat_."

"Coulda fooled me," Duke said, as toast sprayed his face.

Marik shook his head at Bakura; "You don't know, you don't even know when to _sleep_. I dread to think what poor Ryou felt like, coming round in a body you used and abused so much!"

Bakura got up and stalked to the cupboards. Marik sensed his anger, and he wanted to apologise at once. Ryou's small voice stopped him though;

"It wasn't so bad as that," he spoke mostly to the table.

Bakura turned a little to look at him.

"I mean, I don't remember much of anything," Ryou explained. "The worst thing was probably the time with my arm. Not much else."

Marik noticed Ryou's bandaged arm and remembered it all at once. He touched it lightly. "I'm sorry about that, Ryou."

Ryou shook his head; "it doesn't matter anymore."

Marik did not expect Bakura to apologise, and he didn't. But he turned to Ryou with a neutral face; "could you make some more of that burnt stuff?"

Ryou beamed, and his mouth moved like he might laugh; "yes, I can make more burnt toast!"

Midway through Bakura's third round of burnt toast, and Ryou's story about accidentally eating dog food when he was in England, Yugi entered the room accompanied by the rest of his friends.

"We're here," Joey said.

"We can see that," Duke snorted.

"No, I mean we're back in Domino City."

"Oh," Duke stood up, as did everyone else at the table, except Bakura, who kept eating toast.

"Farewell then," he waved vaguely at Yugi.

"Aren't you coming?" Yugi was rather shocked.

"Why ever would I do that? I hate you lot."

Joey looked like he might yell something, and the Millennium Puzzle glowed against Yugi's chest. But Yugi put a hand over it and looked at Bakura patiently;

"Didn't you say you were going to help us?"

Bakura scowled at the Puzzle; "didn't you say you didn't want my help?"

Yugi shrugged; "If you're not going to return the Ring we don't have much choice."

"Why don't you force it off me? You're good at that."

"I already suggested that," Joey said in a disappointed way.

Yugi shook his head; "we don't have much choice but to let you help. Either that or we let you alone with the Ring. And we can't-"

"Yes, I know the drill," Bakura looked bored. "You can't trust me alone with the Ring. So you're saying I have no choice but to stay with you lot?"

Yugi nodded; "Unless you give us the Ring."

"I'm not giving it back."

"Then you'll have to come with us." Yugi concluded simply.

Bakura glared at the table for the longest time, and then he looked up at Yugi and seemed very aware of the Puzzle shining on his chest; "Fine." he decided. "If that's how you want it."

Yugi nodded, and seemed halfway pleased with the arrangement. Nearly everyone else looked a bit scared.

Marik just found himself smiling. He wanted Bakura to stay, more than most things.

"So," Joey said, eyes on Marik; "now we got four Millennium items, right? And we need to get the Rod back from the Realm, and figure out the secret to those weird words on your back."

Marik blushed, and felt Bakura staring at him.

"Yeah, but we do know we need all the items to unlock the Pharaoh's past," Tea put in, also looking at Marik.

Marik stared at the ground; "Yeah, that's true. Let's focus on getting all the items first."

"The Rod's the best place to start, since we at least know where it is." Yugi said, and he gave Bakura a careful look. "Are you going to help with that, Bakura?"

Bakura was watching Marik, and Marik saw the betrayed look on his face. Bakura didn't acknowledge Yugi at all as he spoke;

"Do I have much choice?" he said sarcastically. "Maybe it's best I stay with you lot anyway, find out more of these secrets you're keeping from me."

"Bakura-" Marik started, but in that moment the door opened, and Ishizu came in.

"Odion's not looking very good," she looked at Marik. "We need to get him to a proper hospital."

"No problem, we can get off the blimp now," said Joey.

Marik brushed by everyone to get to his sister's side. She smiled in her usual brave way that told Marik not to worry. Marik wished it was so easy.

"Let's get going. I can't let anything happen to Odion now."

Everyone filed out the room in a strange silence, and though Marik was obliged to follow Ishizu to their adopted brother's room, he found Bakura at his side anyway.

The Spirit gave him a haughty look in explanation; "You're still the only one I can really stand in this sorry group, whatever you might think."

Marik smiled, translating it as a compliment. "Nonsense. You know my sister fancies you."

Ishizu didn't turn round; "I heard that," she didn't sound too annoyed.

They reached the end of the corridor and as they stopped outside Odion's room, Marik dared to put a hand on Bakura's shoulder. He looked in the Spirit's eyes;

"I didn't mean to keep secrets. Please believe me?"

Bakura seemed unsure, but not in a sceptical way. "Alright." he decided after a moment, then said stiffly; "I'll wait out here. Your brother does not like me."

Marik started to argue, but realised it was stupid and Bakura was right. And perhaps Odion would hate Bakura even more, now he knew everything that had happened.

He sighed as he followed his sister through the door, looking over his shoulder at Bakura;

"Won't be long."

Bakura shook his head; "I'm missing you already."

Marik grinned, and felt a bit lighter. He could even look at Odion, who was ill and still mostly unconscious, and feel like things might get better.

88


	8. Invasions

Thank you for the kind reviews so far! I appreciate them all very much!

**Chapter 8**

**Invasion**s

Domino City contained plenty of available and empty apartments, mainly because it was a tourist trap, and with the recent Battle City Finals there were people vacating all around.

"You picked the cheapest one, didn't you?" Duke said, watching the kitchen tap fill his cup with brownish water. "Oh, this is lovely."

"Quit complaining, we're not stopping long." Joey stretched out on the sorry looking couch and started flicking through a television that comprised mostly of static. He pulled a face; "Okay, you did pick the cheapest place, didn't you, Yug?"

Yugi entered the room, struggling with a couple of suitcases. "Sorry you guys. But it's only for a little while."

"There's only three bedrooms," Tea said, peering from round a dull brown door. "Me and Serenity have called the one with the least amount of dead bugs in the bed."

"Where is Serenity?" Joey asked.

"She's trying to get rid of the bugs. Tristan's being all noble and helping, apparently."

Duke spat water back into the sink; "I can be noble too," he declared, and ran past Tea to Serenity's room.

Joey rolled his eyes; "Great. Everyone's in love with my sister and the tv's broken. Best day ever."

Yugi and Tea exchanged tired smiles, and Tea took Yugi's suitcases off him.

"Sit down, I'm going to make us all a drink."

Yugi smiled gratefully and sat with a sigh on a chair that was far too springy. He stared at the cardboard coloured walls and reminded himself that this wouldn't be for too long.

It had been Yami who had suggested they all stick together like this, and Yugi had agreed.

It wasn't safe, knowing that dark Marik might appear to any of them if they were alone. Nobody was well prepared or really knew how to fend Marik's dark half off without the Millennium items.

They had four available to them, and it was a mild comfort. Nobody but Yugi and Yami knew about the Key though. The fifth item was hanging around a Spirit's neck somewhere in the Domino City hospital.

Yami had not wanted Bakura to join Marik and Ishizu at the hospital, but Yugi had talked him round. It seemed like Marik could handle the Spirit, or at least he didn't seem to be suspicious of him. Besides, Marik seemed to enjoy Bakura's company, and neither Yugi or Yami wanted to deny the troubled tomb keeper a friend.

"He's probably done a runner," Joey muttered, head rested on the couch arm, and recognising Yugi's troubled face. "We shoulda kept the lunatic with us. Least we got the items to protect us. What's Marik got if that Spirit decides to go crazy on him?"

"Don't worry, I gave Ishizu the necklace back just in case." Yugi told him. "they'll be ok."

Ryou came into the room, coughing a bit. "It's very dusty in there. I think I might just sleep on the couch if it's all the same with you." he gave the couch a quick and discerning look; "maybe I'll just sleep outside."

"It's not so bad, once you get used to the smell," Duke reappeared with Serenity looped on his arm. Behind him Tristan was silently fuming.

"Did you defeat all the scary bugs?" Tea asked, handing them each a drink.

"Oh yes," Serenity grinned; "these boys were very brave."

"I was a little braver though, wasn't I?" Duke smirked in Serenity's ear, and she giggled.

Tristan pushed past Duke; "please tell me the tv works, I'm gonna go crazy." he sat on the couch, and Joey shook his head, giving him a sad look.

"Oh no way," Duke said. "My favourite soap starts in about an hour."

Yugi shook his head at all of them, and put a comforting hand on the Puzzle, finding his link to the Pharaoh which was open and attentive. He'd be on edge until Bakura was back in his sight, Yugi knew.

"_He'll come back, Pharaoh. He has too."_

"_You don't know that, Yugi."_

"_He wants the Millennium items. Most of them are here, he has to come back."_

There was a pause on Yami's end, and the ancient Spirit made a grunting sound of reluctant agreement.

"_I suppose so."_

Yugi held the Puzzle a bit tighter, like it might reassure Yami. He hated when the Pharaoh was so troubled like this, and it often seeped, however accidentally, into Yugi's own mood.

Suddenly the Puzzle's gentle heat became fiery hot for a couple of painful seconds. Yugi yelped and jerked his hand away from it.

"Yug, you alright?" Joey asked at once.

"_I'm sorry, Yugi,"_ Yami apologised through the link. _"he's coming back, I sense him now."_

"Who is-" Yugi started to speak, and at the same time the door opened, revealing Marik and Bakura. They both looked rather tired.

Marik peered about the room with poorly disguised disdain; "I think the hospital's looking more and more appealing," he stepped into the room and Bakura closed the door behind them. The Spirit folded his arms and looked at Yugi and his Puzzle.

"_See, he did come back."_ Yugi said through the link.

Yami snorted; _"full of surprises."_

Marik took a seat at the kitchen table, and he gave Bakura a hopeful sort of look. Bakura lingered by the doorway a stubborn moment, before stalking to the tiny kitchen area. He leaned on a cabinet, near to Marik.

"Where's Ishizu?" Joey asked, looking suspiciously at Bakura.

"Oh yes," Bakura rolled his eyes; "I banished her to the Shadow Realm, and allowed her little brother to go free and escort me back to your individual waiting wrath's," He folded his arms. "I'm quite the mastermind."

Yugi spoke before Joey could gather an angry retort; "have you got-"

"-here's the Necklace," Marik pulled it from his shirt pocket and tossed it to Yugi. "Ishizu is staying with Odion at the hospital," the tomb keeper looked at the ground. "She told me I'd be safer with you. You have items to protect us from it." he trailed off, and looked sick.

Yugi nodded, knowing Marik could hardly bear to talk about his dark half.

"We're all here, then," Ryou broke the silence with an inappropriately bright smile. "Would anyone like some cake? I bought it incase we got hungry thinking of plans."

"What plans?" Bakura asked, giving Marik an expectant look. Marik shrugged and didn't say anything.

"Well we need a plan, right?" Joey said, giving Ryou a funny look he pushed cake in his hand; "are we just gonna sit around and wait for that freaky Marik to come for us again? Cos that's a pretty lame plan."

"That's what we need to figure out," Yugi turned to Marik; "Do you know if you can sense your dark half at all?"

"I don't know," Marik kept his eyes on the table, and looked sicker, "I wish I could...but it all seemed to happen so fast. I had a headache...but that went on for some time, and it...my dark half, he appeared so suddenly..."

"There must have been a reason for him getting to you like that," Tea said thoughtfully. "The headache, that must have been a sign. Can you try to think of anything else, Marik?"

Marik looked hard at the table, biting his lip. Then he shook his head; "I really don't know," he said in a despairing way; "I'm sorry..."

Bakura moved to the table, closer to Marik, and glared at everyone else; "Why don't you stop asking stupid questions? It's not helping."

"We need information," Joey snapped; "and this isn't up to you. The only reason you're with us is because we can't trust you anywhere else."

"Wonderful," Bakura rolled his eyes. "But if any of you possessed half a brain cell you might remember I was in the Realm when Marik's other half returned the other night."

"That's true," Duke nodded enthusiastically. "There was all that weird mist stuff outside of the blimp when I went looking for you."

Bakura nodded; "yes, that is the Shadow Realm," he said like he was talking to a very young child. "Mortals cannot access it unless they are granted permission from the one who summoned the Realm in the first place. Or," he looked at Yugi's Puzzle; "they have a Millennium item."

"So," Joey sighed impatiently; "why don't we just go back to the Shadow Realm, snatch the Rod and get back here again before the crazy Marik notices?"

Bakura snorted; "it must be such an easy life for you, having such an uncomplicated mind."

Joey's face reddened, but Bakura carried on before he could say anything, looking mostly at Yugi;

"But your friend does have the basic idea. It seems the most reasonable way to go about getting the Rod back. Rather than waiting for him to come to us, we should go to the Realm. Take him by surprise."

"_We_?" Tristan raised an eyebrow. "_We_ aren't doing anything like that, because _we_ are not crazy," he gestured around at Yugi's friends. "Right guys?"

Bakura folded his arms and gave Yugi a challenging look; "how else are you going to get the Rod back? I told you, I am your best bet. My Ring is strongest in the Realm, and you know it. _Pharaoh._"

Yugi felt the stinging against his hand as the Puzzle glowed, and then the furious energy sparking in his link, as Yami tried to take control of his body. Yugi concentrated hard and shook his head against it.

"_No, let me handle this."_

Bakura stepped forwards, grinning at the Puzzle; "is the dear Pharaoh all angry at me again? Why doesn't he come out and speak to me properly?"

Yugi blinked angrily up at Bakura; "_No._ You two aren't fighting again."

"_Yugi!"_ Yami spoke through the link; "_let me speak to him now!"_

"_Not when you're so angry!"_

Yugi didn't like to, but he closed the link with some force and focussed completely on Bakura, full of suspicion;

"You already went to get the Rod back before, and you couldn't manage it. What makes you think you can do it now?"

Bakura smirked; "I already told you, the Ring is strongest in the Realm. I'll be better prepared this time."

Marik spoke from the table; "I think it's a stupid idea. Why should you go back to the Shadow Realm?"

"Would you rather wait until he attacks without warning?" Bakura gave the tomb keeper a grim look.

"No, that's not what I meant," Marik huffed and folded his arms. He stared angrily at the cake Ryou had placed politely in front of him.

"Why don't you combine your items, like before?" Ryou suggested, and looked between Bakura and Yugi timidly. He held out another slice of cake, in Bakura's awkward direction.

Bakura gave the cake and Ryou a scathing look; "I don't need help from the Pharaoh. I can do it myself."

Marik scoffed, but looked too angry to say anything else.

"I say if the Spirit wants to do it, we let him do it," Joey said. "Let the crazy defeat the crazy, right? We shouldn't have to get involved."

Ryou looked at the rejected cake in his hand with a disheartened face. He offered it to Yugi instead; "maybe that would be for the best? The Spirit seems to know what he's doing."

"Yeah, something really stupid," Marik said, "Bakura, you can't defeat my dark half alone. Don't pretend like you can."

Bakura whirled round on him, his face very angry; "I know what I'm doing, don't you dare underestimate me, Marik!"

Marik opened his mouth; for a moment he looked like he might yell, but then he just turned violently away from everyone.

"Do what you like then," he snarled under his breath.

Yugi stared between them, and then everyone else. He could feel the Puzzle glowing in his palm, although he didn't want to open his link to Yami just yet. For the first time in so long, he was afraid of how his own Spirit would act.

"Why do you want the items, anyway?" it was Tea who asked, in a voice that was trying to be brave. She was looking at Bakura.

"He won't tell you, he won't even tell me," Marik said icily.

"Why do _you _need all the items, Yugi?" Bakura kept his eyes on the Puzzle.

Yugi considered his answer. He couldn't trust the Spirit, but there was no harm in telling him what everybody else already knew;

"We need them to unlock the Pharaoh's memories somehow. We're not sure how to do that just yet, though." he spoke carefully, and watched Bakura in the same way, trying to guess his reaction.

The Spirit's expression did not slip from a smirk. He didn't seem surprised at all; "nice to know," he said, and turned away. Tristan stood up and blocked his path.

"Your turn now," he said. "Why do _you_ want the items?"

Bakura laughed, and didn't seem intimidated by Tristan's hand tight on his wrist or his growling face. "Very well," Bakura eyed the ceiling for a moment; "What if I told you I just like collecting things?"

"What if I told you that's not good enough?" Tristan said in a low, dangerous voice.

Yugi noticed Bakura's Ring glowing, and he stood up in a rush, cutting between them. He looked with difficulty at Bakura, the Spirit was smirking at his Puzzle.

"The Pharaoh wants to come out," Bakura observed, and reached out to touch the Puzzle.

The Spirit's pale hand rested long enough on the item for Yugi to see the desire flicker in the Spirit's eyes, and then Yugi shoved him away. For a moment he could have let Yami take over, even knowing how furious he was. It would have been satisfying to see the Pharaoh take everything out on Bakura, who was wicked and did not deserve their trust. But that was no good, he didn't want to sink to that level.

Yugi closed his eyes briefly and turned away from the Spirit, pulling back his remaining patience.

"Let's just concentrate on getting the Rod back for now," he said slowly.

"Very well," Bakura looked pleased with himself, and seemed quite oblivious to Tristan's seething face, and even Marik's hostile look in the Spirit's direction.

Joey stood up; "it's late. First, let's sort out who the hell is sleeping where. We can figure out how to defeat freaky spirits after that."

88

It was gone midnight before everyone had stopped arguing about rooms, beds and awkward sleeping arrangements. Serenity and Tea kept the room with the least amount of dead bugs, which was the smallest anyway, and Joey and Tristan called the double bed and got into a brief, loud fight about it.

Marik ended up sharing a boxy room with Ryou, Yugi and Bakura. Yugi insisted Marik take a bed rather than a sleeping bag, but Marik didn't care. He was very tired but he couldn't sleep because Bakura was so stupid.

He peered into the small living area, where Bakura sat on the couch, watching the snowy tv like it might show him something interesting.

"You can take the bed, if you want it," Marik told him.

Bakura looked sideways at Marik as he sat on the couch; "I'm not tired."

"I'm not, either."

Bakura looked at him properly, raising a brow; "yes you are."

Marik shook his head, feeling stubborn.

"Marik, your link is wide open. I know you're tired."

Marik sighed and looked angrily at his lap. He kept forgetting about that stupid link.

They sat in silence, and for a minute Marik thought he could be patient, but the quiet was unbearable, and it was inviting him to say something; "why won't you let Yami help you?" he asked at last.

"I don't need his help." Bakura said flatly.

"Sure," Marik rolled his eyes, but the sarcasm was mostly drowned in his upset; "because you were doing_ so_ well before. I just _love_ how you barely even managed to defeat my dark half with Yami's Puzzle."

Bakura huffed, but didn't say anything. His eyes stayed on the buzzing tv.

"Face it, you need his help," Marik said. "My...my dark half must be strong, to be so powerful against two items, never mind one-"

"It doesn't matter, I don't need the Puzzle's power," Bakura said.

Marik shook his head incredulously; "I don't believe what you're saying. How...why are you being so stupid?"

"It's not stupid, I'm thinking ahead," Bakura looked at Marik carefully. "I don't need the Puzzle just yet, so there's no point in using it."

Marik closed his eyes for a moment, trying to temper his frustration with the Spirit; "look, I don't know what your plans are for the items, and Ra knows you'll never tell me. But I do know you're being stupid. Anyone can see that."

Bakura leaned back on the couch, not saying anything. It infuriated Marik even more;

"You said the Pharaoh was the proud one who wouldn't accept any help. Now look who's being proud and arrogant!"

Bakura shook his head, and looked almost as frustrated as Marik; "you can't understand."

"Maybe if you _told _me why you need the items-"

"Why do you need to know? It's never going to affect you, Marik."

Marik stared at him; "That's hardly the point!"

"Then what is the point?"

"To _tell_ me things! How else am I supposed to trust you, if you keep things like this from me-"

"Hah! That's rich!" Bakura said, his face flushed with a bit of colour; "what about you and your secrets about the Pharaoh, when were you going to tell me about those?"

"I already told you, it was never my intention to keep secrets," Marik could feel the burning prickle of his link with Bakura, and he realised the Spirit was angry. The link was like a line of excited electricity, dancing about in Marik's mind and somehow reminding him of everything he already knew about the Spirit. Or everything he probably wasn't supposed to know.

He could almost touch upon and visualise those strange images that has flashed through his head so quickly when they had joined hands, and when Marik had known it was the only way he could pull Bakura away from the darkness and his dark half in the Shadow Realm.

He could remember Bakura's hands, and how they had been painful and clawing, yet had eventually melted into something like surrender, holding onto Marik just as tightly in the end.

Marik reached out a hand now, and found it touching Bakura's own on his lap. The cold touch didn't really register, since Marik's mind was far too distracted by everything else; the simple wide opening of a link, pouring memories he had seen before into his head, and the alarming vulnerability that flashed too quickly on Bakura's face...

A cold slab, like ice, suddenly pounded through Marik's head. He blinked as his mind became clear again, and Bakura was looking at him with hateful eyes.

"Don't do that again," he growled.

"Do what-"

"Don't pretend you don't know." Bakura sounded dangerous.

"I don't know!" Marik snapped. "What have I-"

The bedroom door creaked open, and Ryou peered in, looking sleepy and apologetic. "Can you two be a bit quieter, maybe? Just a little bit?"

Marik was fine with that. He stood up, shaking in a confused rage and not wanting to look at Bakura anymore. He followed Ryou through the door and didn't look back.

"Is everything okay?" Ryou asked, rubbing his eyes as he crawled back into bed.

"Not really." Marik told him. He burrowed roughly into his sleeping bag, and stared at the off-coloured wall.

"Is Bakura-"

"I told him he could have the stupid bed," Marik interrupted. "He can do what the hell he wants."

88

Bakura rubbed his temples, feeling a little violated. He hadn't meant to snap at Marik like that, but then he wasn't used to humans having such access to his own mind like that. It was unsettling, to think Marik could pry into his thoughts and memories so easily, when Bakura himself had little idea what any of them meant and how he was supposed to handle them.

He wasn't sure if he should let the human see them. Maybe it would help this trust thing that humans valued so much. But then why should Marik still be allowed to keep his own secrets? It didn't seem a fair deal. Was that really how these things worked? Bakura was damned if he knew. Humans gave him such a headache.

He didn't want to sleep in the bedroom. There were too many humans and he wasn't used to it. It had been a great relief earlier, just to get off the blimp and away from human confines. And though he had planned to stay with Marik anyway, the journey to the hospital had been wonderfully quiet, and nobody had watched him with frightened eyes.

It was easier because Marik had trusted him.

He curled on the horrible couch and watched the broken tv for a little while longer. The burn of Marik's link told him the human was still very angry, and it wasn't the best thing to fall asleep to. He supposed he could just close the link and ignore it, but that'd be too easy. And he wanted to know Marik was okay, even if he was so angry.

Bakura closed his eyes and held the Ring loosely. As his link to Marik began to calm, an old headache took it's place. It was painful and had been there in the background ever since waking up on the blimp in his own body.

He tossed onto his side. Bodies were terrible things. So much needless pain, and all of it a reminder of his new weakness. He wouldn't readily admit that Ryou was very useful, but right now he was seeing the advantages to having a host. At least he didn't have to care about bodies then.

As the headache took proper hold, Bakura remembered his Soul Room with a longing. He wondered if he could reach it, anything to retreat from the pain bouncing around his head. He looked down at the Ring and held it tighter; feeling it's warm glow, along with a mix of sensations he knew from inhabiting his host Ryou.

It was the feeling of returning to the Soul Room after a gruelling day, and the relief of being a simple essence and nothing else for a little while after.

Bakura slipped back into his Soul Room with some ease, but it was a short-lived relief.

8

It was colder than he remembered, or perhaps that was because he'd not been there for a little while. Human contact had spoiled him. He looked up on instinct, and there was the swarm.

It was making a deafening amount of noise, buzzing and echoing all about. Bakura cringed back, his head felt fuzzy. The swarm rushed down, circled him for a few seconds before taking form a few metres away.

Bakura was not surprised to see it's form was Dark Marik, but he was surprised that it was in his Soul Room once more.

"Ah, this place takes me back."

"How did you get in here?" Bakura asked.

"I have the Rod, Spirit. Are you forgetting the item so quickly?" Dark Marik grinned as he waved the Rod in his hand. "The item lets me enter another's mind. Surely your good friend Marik told you about that?"

"I _know_," Bakura glared. "But you shouldn't be able to get in here at all. You're trapped in the Shadow Realm."

"Not all of me is in the Realm," Dark Marik explained conversationally. "I owe you some thanks, actually Spirit. I took a tip from you and kept a part of myself within your own mind. It makes sense, this place has sentimental value. It was the place I grew up, after all."

Bakura pulled a face, wanting to kill but stuck on the problem of how; "I'll force you out, then."

Dark Marik shook his head regretfully, "I can't leave just yet, there's still things to be done."

Bakura watched as the Dark Marik's form fell in on itself, and then he was the swarm once more. It's hum was almost a laugh as it rushed to Bakura, and Bakura braced himself as the stinging headache took over and invaded all of him.

It was still very painful, but he could at least get to grips with what to expect now. He recalled dark Marik's words about barriers and shields, then he felt for the link he was growing more and more familiar with, the one that needed to be defended.

Marik's link was being pulled back; it was a tearing sensation like a vicious migraine that had found a certain point to torment in Bakura's mind. He knew that once the link was open Marik would be exposed to his dark half once again.

Bakura would not let that happen this time.

He concentrated hard; the darkness was powerful but he had felt enough of it to be able to cope and know how it worked. He closed his eyes and found Marik's link. It was open, but not too much; the darkness had not seeped completely into it just yet.

He smiled to himself; Dark Marik wouldn't get through again. He ignored the gale of dark that physically attacked his own body, and kept all his attention within his mind. He pushed the swarm away; it was easier when he knew what to target, and it was already starting to give up.

It began to drain from his mind with a gradual and slow relief.

The link to Marik healed itself in a few short seconds. It felt much longer, and Bakura opened his eyes, feeling sick and dizzy. He was kneeling on the floor, and the swarm had spread out. It was flying away, past the Soul room's walls, and fading off into nothing.

Bakura got up with some effort; his vision was blurred and his body ached more than he had expected. Still, the darkness was gone now, it hardly mattered.

He looked about his Soul Room with anticipation all the same; Dark Marik would still be about, even if he'd been weakened enough not to fight for the moment.

With that in mind, Bakura looked at the ceiling and wondered about getting back out.

He'd never been in his Soul Room as a creature with his own body. He tried to think about how Marik used to do it when he visited.

The Ring's heat was soft against his chest, and acted as a reasonable enough answer. Bakura held it with a little uncertainty. It was strange how it was glowing; usually that meant there was another item in range, or perhaps danger.

Bakura scanned the Soul Room once more. No sign of the swarm. He stepped back and held the Ring with both hands. Maybe it'd be the same as taking possession of Ryou's body. It'd make sense; since he was returning to a corporal form.

So he did what he always did when it came to possession, closing his eyes and searching for a link within the Ring, the one that anchored him to the body that wore it.

He returned to his body with very little strength left. The aches of the Soul Room seemed to have joined him in his proper body, and now he just wanted to sleep more than anything else. Stupid weak human body.

The Ring burned against his chest. He should probably try to get up, or at least open his eyes. But he felt flimsy like paper. He was too tired for any of that.

88

Yami had not intended to come this far, and even as he reasoned to himself that the Puzzle had been glowing, telling him there was danger, he still felt like he shouldn't be doing this.

It was 3am, and he stood over Bakura's sleeping form, holding the Key and shaking just a bit. He was close enough; and it'd be so easy. Just one quick movement, twist the Key, and he could set his mind to rest.

It was _too_ easy, though. And it wasn't fair.

Yami lowered the Key when he looked properly at Bakura's face. It was very white and Yami could see the shine of perspiration there even in the dark. The Spirit's body twitched every now and then and a murmur of discomfort passed his lips as he tossed his head. Yami didn't know Bakura might dream, never mind have a nightmare.

He would have been concerned, if not for the glowing Ring and all his suspicions. And it was Bakura.

The Puzzle still glowed, as though warning him and reminding him not to fight instinct just yet. He'd come here because the Puzzle had been alight, telling him something was wrong. It never let him down.

Yami hesitated. He wouldn't use the Key, but he could still take the Ring back if he wanted. He reached out a hand, only millimetres from the item. Bakura didn't move; their items were so close to each other, they both burned so fiercely.

Bakura sighed unevenly in his sleep, and Yami realised nothing was going to happen.

He stood back quickly and stared at Bakura, wanting to be angry at the Spirit but finding he was more angry at himself. The presence of Yugi's sleeping link was always there, and now, even though the boy was fast asleep and had no idea of any of this, Yami could imagine his disappointed face. That hurt more than anything.

He walked away because of it.

88

Bakura woke up to a familiar smell, and it reminded him of his old host Ryou. He rubbed his eyes and sat up with difficulty. His limbs were still protesting and he remembered his Soul Room with a grimace. He could have gone back to sleep again, but Ryou was standing over him with burnt food, and Bakura was starving.

"Toast," Ryou said, disarmingly happy.

Bakura took it, too tired to really glare or remind Ryou he did not like him, and just ate the toast and looked around wearily.

Nobody else was there except for Duke, who was frowning at the kitchen table.

Ryou moved with some unease to a chair, and offered Bakura another more terrified smile.

"Everyone's out right now. Well, except for me and Duke," he gestured shortly behind him. "Everyone-"

Bakura knew that Ryou was scared of him; he didn't bother about that, and he didn't care about everyone.

"Where is Marik?" he interrupted his host.

"Oh," Ryou paused. "He's at the hospital, visiting Odion."

Bakura looked at the floor; "he went without me?"

"Yeah," Ryou sounded careful. "Yugi, Tea and Joey went with him too."

Bakura sat up a bit more, and peered at the bedroom where he knew Marik had slept. He remembered the tomb keepers angry face and the angry link. He felt for it now and found it was closed.

"Are you alright?" Ryou asked, his voice tentative. "You don't look especially well."

"Well, I'm dead."

"We were thinking that this morning," Duke said, and walked over in that bold way of his. He looked Bakura up and down, entirely fascinated. "You slept for ages, nobody dared wake you though, incase you tried any of that weird shadow...stuff."

"Very wise" Bakura nodded, and added a glare for good measure. "Marik would wake me."

"He thought you'd be better off getting some sleep," Ryou said.

"Yeah," said Duke; "Looks like you could do with a little more though."

Bakura scowled, hating the idea that humans might have stood around him, watching him and deciding what was best for him. He looked down at his Ring with a tiny bit of comfort. At least he still had that.

"Just in case you do try any funny stuff, we have the necklace to protect us," Duke said, looking a little more careful as he took a seat near the couch. He helped himself to a slice of Ryou's cake, left over from last night.

"Not that we'd think that," Ryou added very quickly. His eyes were darting between Bakura and his own lap, "you said you were going to help us," he added, sounding hopeful.

Bakura hadn't thought much about Ryou or their link for a while. Now he poked it with some curiosity and found it was open to him. Fear and nerves waved through his old host's mind, and Bakura didn't enjoy the sensation even if he'd expected it. Ryou was always so scared.

Bakura leaned forwards on the couch and eyed the plate of cake on the small table. He took a piece after some hesitation and then ate it up. It was okay, and he was still rather hungry. He looked at Ryou, who was smiling at him much more naturally. His link of nerves had calmed a bit and it made Bakura feel better for whatever reason.

He rubbed his temple; the headache was still there, but he could get used to it. He nodded at Ryou;

"I'm helping you get the Rod back. Nothing else."

"I know," Ryou's smile seemed to grow. "I'm glad you're helping."

Bakura didn't know how he was supposed to react to that; he didn't much care what Ryou was glad about, or most other humans really. He stared between his host and Duke, for once not very happy to be in an uncomfortable silence.

He wished Marik had woke him.

"Do you know how to fix it?" Duke's voice broke the silence.

"What?" Bakura followed Duke's gaze to the tv. He turned to Duke; "I don't imagine so," he said very sarcastically.

Duke leaned back in his chair and pouted a bit; "well that's just _great_. I'm stuck here, in this little hell hole of an apartment, whilst my potential girlfriend goes off on a date with a guy I could kick into next week, and the tv doesn't even work. It doesn't get much worse."

Bakura turned to Ryou, who smiled at him apologetically.

"Tristan's taking Serenity out, Duke's really jealous." he explained simply.

"I'm not jealous," Duke corrected. "Tristan has nothing on me."

Bakura grimaced; humans and their relationships never failed to confuse him to no end. The way one human could adore another, and yet hate the next, or maybe they both hated each other but really they didn't...Bakura thought they should just make their minds up and not waste energy on those in between, confused emotions.

Hate everyone or no one. A human was a human, it didn't make much difference.

Bakura thought of Marik, and thought that might be different.

He searched for their link again. He was disappointed to find it was still closed.

"I don't care what they do, I'm taking Serenity out next time and she'll like it," Duke said with confidence.

Ryou rolled his eyes like he'd heard it a thousand times before; "I'm sure. Would you like a drink?"

Bakura nodded absently. He knew he wouldn't feel anything but distracted until Marik was in his sight again, or at least he was given access to their link. He startled at the hand that pressed easily on his shoulder, and he pushed it away when he saw it was Duke.

Duke just grinned; "so, fancy helping me fix the tv?"

8

Bakura was good at fixing things, or so Duke would inform him after about an hour of fiddling with different coloured wires and wonky aerials. The tv wasn't too hard to figure out when Bakura realised it was all just a matter of wavelengths and signals. It was rather like mind links; just a matter of finding the right signal and making sure there was a good, strong enough reception for something to become tangible, or visible enough to connect with.

When he thought about it like that it was easy to forget things and just do a simple human job.

Ryou spent a lot of time balancing the old aerials in his hands, and practising bizarre and stupid positions as he did. Most of them involved standing on the couch and falling off it again. Duke laughed loudly, and Bakura might have smiled through his concentration.

Duke almost choked with laughter when Bakura decided to use the Ring, and the tv set's picture became clear with a woman and a man having a heated discussion on the screen.

"Just in time for my favourite daytime soap!" Duke said, and rushed to pat Bakura gleefully on the back, "these Millennium items, is there anything they can't do?"

"Apparently not," Bakura curled himself away from Duke's hold and retreated to the couch. He noticed Ryou's bemused face.

"The Ring did that?" he asked.

"Can you believe it?" Duke grinned.

Ryou looked at Bakura; "Not really."

Bakura shrugged. "The items attract all sorts of energy, I suppose electrical energy is one of them."

"You should set up a business," Duke said; "tv repair demon. You'll make lots of money." he beamed.

Bakura tilted his head at the human; he looked so happy and pleased, and it was sort of strange that it was because of something Bakura had done. It was strange, but not really a terrible feeling. Bakura could live with it.

"Yeah, maybe consider it," Ryou said. "You know, just in case all this Shadow Realm stuff gets a little dull."

Bakura looked at Ryou, and saw his nervous and yet very amiable face; his mouth always trembling between a grin and a grimace. It was enough to make Bakura grin too. Ryou was an odd human, Bakura could get used to him.

He could get used to both Ryou and Duke as it happened.

"So, let me get this straight. You're not really alive, are you?" Duke dug himself comfortably onto the couch, giving Bakura a fascinated look. Nearby, Ryou made an awkward coughing sound.

Bakura grinned; he quite liked Duke's no nonsense approach, it was a nice to see another human besides Marik who didn't look at him with a mixture of terror and suspicion. Not that those things weren't nice when Bakura wanted them to be.

"Well, technically I am alive, now that I have a body." Bakura said. "But that's all it is. I'm not human."

"You look human," Duke said. "I think you could pass for one, especially if you got rid of the undead complexion look."

"I can't help that I inherit some of my appearance from my old host," Bakura looked at Ryou. "It's to be expected."

Ryou looked horrified. "Am I really that pale?"

"Afraid so," Duke said with no tact at all.

Bakura wanted to laugh; Duke's teasing face and Ryou's mildly insulted one seemed to be asking for it.

"Hmph. You would find it funny," Ryou said, catching Bakura's eye.

Bakura nodded easily, and was strangely warmed by the proper smile Ryou offered him. That was interesting, but not entirely alien. It made him remember Marik.

"So, if you're not human, that means we can't kill you, right?" Duke carried on, still very curious.

"I suppose." Bakura said. "Sorry about that," he looked wolfishly at Ryou, noticing him squirm.

Ryou cleared his throat; "But if that's the case, that would mean we can't kill the Dark Marik either, right? I mean, he's not really alive. He's like you-"

"He is not like me," Bakura corrected sharply, and was surprised by the force of his own words. "He was created by human emotion, therefore he is human. Or at least, he has human qualities."

"That thing? But he looks even more messed up than you," Duke snorted. "Er, no offense."

"None taken," Bakura said, and thought he should address Ryou, who looked far too worried. "You know that I am not human, because I needed your body to exist. You also know I was not created by yourself?"

"Well I would hope not." Ryou nodded.

"Marik's other half was born from Marik himself, if I am understanding correctly," Bakura continued, "From what Marik has told me, and from what he has told all of you, Dark Marik was his own creation."

"That boy has some issues," Duke decided.

"It is a bit worrying," Ryou admitted. "But surely, if that's the case, Marik should be able to destroy him?"

Bakura considered. If only it was so simple. It was easy enough for the likes of Ryou and Duke to think about these things in such simple terms. They were just human, after all. Why should they be expected to know things about the darkness, and everything it was capable of?

"I don't think Marik would be able to destroy his other self now. It has become far too powerful." he tapped his Ring, knowing Ryou was looking at it too.

"Is that how you can tell? Can you sense it through the Ring?" Ryou asked.

"Something like that." Bakura couldn't be bothered with the details. He hadn't even told Marik any of this, now that he thought about it. He also noticed that both Ryou and Duke were sitting far too close for comfort; their eyes watching him in a state of obvious fascination, waiting for more important words to come out of his mouth.

Bakura stood up and folded his arms. "If the Pharaoh wants information he can just ask me for himself."

"Oh no, it's not like that," Ryou said at once. He stood up too, and moved as though to pat Bakura on the shoulder, but seemed to lose the nerve at the last minute. He ended up just smiling in that awkward, semi-terrified way of his. "Honestly, I just wanted to know things. We both did."

"Yeah, so cool down." Duke was much bolder, and he grabbed Bakura by the wrist, tugging him back onto the couch, "look, we're just in time for some funniest home videos," he flicked the remote to the tv.

Bakura watched the tv with disinterest, not really watching it at all. He was far too aware of the two humans, who sat closer to him than he would have liked. This was probably normal, but it was unnerving to Bakura, who was only close to relaxed in this sort of situation when it was Marik who was near to him.

It wasn't that he was afraid. Bakura was never afraid. It was just very strange.

Through their link, Bakura could tell that Ryou was starting to relax though, like he might be getting used to the idea of sharing his presence with the Spirit he had feared to much before.

Bakura was a little bit pleased about that, and when Ryou offered him some more cake Bakura took it with a grin, and Ryou grinned back. Bakura had no idea why such a gesture might make him feel better about things, but for some reason it did. Perhaps human nature was contagious. Bakura didn't know enough about it to make a confident guess though.

"It's chocolate," Ryou said, talking about the cake. "You like it?"

"It's alright," Bakura considered; "better than the burnt toast stuff."

Ryou laughed, a small surprise to Bakura, who wasn't used to his old host being like that with him. He saw Ryou's arm jerk up a bit as he laughed. It was still bandaged, and Bakura looked at it and felt sorry.

Ryou didn't seem to notice, which was a relief. Bakura turned away quickly, the bandaged arm reminding him of Marik.

He'd been tapping into their link all afternoon with no success at all. Maybe it didn't matter if he got through or not, but Bakura didn't care about that. The point was he wanted to, and it was getting frustrating. He wasn't used to worrying.

He wasn't used to any of this.

He wanted to be a simple essence, back inside the Ring again. He didn't want a body to look after, or a sense of reason, a reason to do the things he was doing right now. He'd never needed one before, why did things have to matter so much now?

"Marik will be back soon,"

Ryou's soft voice was startling, and his sympathetic face even more so. He'd pried into Bakura's link, if only for a moment.

"Sorry," Ryou said quickly, realising that Bakura knew it. "I didn't mean-"

"I know," Bakura interrupted quietly, "you're really getting good at this link thing, aren't you?"

"I've had a bit of practice," Ryou nodded, and looked relieved. "I should probably thank you for that."

"You're welcome," Bakura said, stealing more cake from Ryou's plate. He could get used to it.

8

When Marik returned, along with everyone else, Bakura was pretending to listen to Duke's rants about Tristan. Ryou was washing pots in the kitchen sink, occasionally nodding in listless agreement whenever Duke insisted he was better than Tristan.

Bakura snapped his head round when the door clicked open. He looked past everyone else to see Marik.

The tomb keeper looked sad, but his eyes didn't meet Bakura's, and he walked purposefully to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Bakura started to get up, but he froze with the hand on his arm. The Pharaoh was in control of Yugi's body, and his face was very stern.

"Leave him alone, Bakura. He doesn't want to talk."

"I want to see him," Bakura stood up, and angrily shrugged the hand off his shoulder, "So let me through."

"I said _no_," the Pharaoh's eyes looked dangerous, but no more so than Bakura was used to seeing them whenever they met his own. He was never intimidated by the Pharaoh; most of the time he played up for a reaction such as this, and it would have been satisfying at any other time, but that didn't matter right now. He needed to see Marik.

He dodged round the Pharaoh, but found himself being pulled back by the scruff of his shirt, and then Tristan's warning voice;

"Stay right there."

Bakura turned slowly to face him, his body shaking with a teetering rage; "let go of me, _now_."

"You're not to see him," the Pharaoh shook his head, blocking the bedroom door. "He wants to be alone."

"And I want to talk to him," Bakura balled his hands into fists; "you can't tell me what to do."

The Pharaoh looked at Bakura's Ring, and his face wavered a moment before he frowned harshly; "I said _no,_ Bakura."

Bakura hissed through his teeth; "then tell me what is wrong with him!"

"Whaddaya think?" Joey spoke up, "His brother's no better. He hasn't woken up yet," his voice got a bit low with the truth of the words, and he looked rather sad.

"They don't know if he'll wake up at all," Serenity added, looking at the ground.

Bakura looked round at all their sad faces, but could not relate, could not bring himself to feel anything for any of them.

Tristan spoke from behind him; "Why would you care, anyway?"

Bakura span round, then curled a fist deep into Tristan's stomach. There was a satisfying wheeze as the human let go of him and reeled back onto the ground. He lay there gasping and Bakura wanted to laugh, but rage was still too prominent in his mind for that.

Tea and Joey gathered around Tristan and their shocked faces matched everyone else's.

Bakura was too slow to react to the next set of hands that found his wrists. They pulled him back sharply and he fell back against the Pharaoh. He could feel the Puzzle jabbing painfully into his back, and then the Pharaoh's voice close to his ear;

"I can't trust you, Bakura," his voice was a whisper and full of contained rage; nobody else could have heard it; "I know you were up to something last night. My Puzzle could sense it."

"What?" Bakura twisted a bit, but the Pharaoh's hold was firm. He managed a grin and whispered back; "what do you think I was up to then, Pharaoh?"

The hands on his wrists squeezed harder for a few seconds, and the Pharaoh's voice was determined; "I don't know, but you don't get another chance."

In another moment Bakura felt his wrists being freed, and then a rough arm catching his chest so that he couldn't move away. He felt a hand scramble up his chest, and he knew before it had happened what the Pharaoh was going to do.

"Good luck getting the Rod back," he said, as the Ring's weight came away from his chest, "You're going to need it."

The Pharaoh shoved him away, holding the Ring tight in his hand.

"We'll get it back, don't you worry," he said.

"Why on earth would I?" Bakura stared at him, and didn't think he could hate the Pharaoh as much as he did in that moment.

He turned round, and everyone was watching him like frozen statues. Ryou's eyes were wide and Bakura could almost see the tiny moments of that afternoon draining away from his memory.

A hopeful smile didn't mean anything, Bakura knew that now. Humans didn't know what they wanted, and that was fine with Bakura. He didn't want to try and help them anyway.

He looked at the bedroom door. It was closed just as well as Marik's link. That was fine, too. It was easy if the human didn't care; it meant he didn't have to anymore.

He brushed past the Pharaoh and everyone else.

"Like I said, _good luck_. You're going to need it."

He left the apartment and didn't look back.

88

Yami sat down on the couch and tucked the Ring in his pocket. Yugi's voice was quiet in the back of his mind;

"_Well, we got the Ring from him. One good thing."_

"_Yeah."_ Yami said, and wondered why he didn't feel happier about that.

The room was quiet and the atmosphere was awkward, despite everything. The Spirit had left and he didn't have the Ring, it should have been a comforting thing at least.

Tea sat down next to Yami; "I guess that went as well as it could."

Yami nodded and gave her a weak smile, he didn't really know what to say.

"Yeah," Joey said enthusiastically. "You didn't give him chance to use the Ring, that's for sure."

"Good riddance," Tristan mumbled as he sat down. He rubbed his stomach with a groan; "that's gonna bruise," he looked up at both Ryou and Duke; "Did he try anything else, while we were away?"

"Oh yes," Ryou nodded; "he did lots of evil things. Like eat cake and fixing the tv. It was truly diabolical and terrifying. You really should have been there."

"What?" Tristan noticed the tv's quiet drone. "He fixed that?"

"Yeah," Duke looked annoyed; "we missed the last part of my favourite show cos of all your dramatics."

Tristan's eyes widened; "that maniac punched me in the stomach!"

Serenity put a hand on Tristan's shoulder, perhaps to try and calm him. It didn't go down very well with Duke, who frowned at them both and then at Yami.

"The Spirit wasn't doing anything wrong. Why couldn't he see Marik, anyway?"

Yami looked at everyone, but his gaze rested on Ryou, who was always understanding; "Marik didn't want to see him, it's as simple as that."

Ryou shook his head, and even though his angry face wasn't very frightening, it was still a shock because it was so rare; "Bakura was really worried about Marik. I could tell."

"Worried?" Joey said sceptically, "you sure about that, Ryou?"

"I have a link too, remember," Ryou bristled. "I could tell."

Yami stood up. Listening to this wasn't helping at all, even if he had made the right decision in the end.

Whichever way he looked at it, Bakura was loose, and probably angry. Yami could still feel dark eyes burning into his own, sparking a hatred he couldn't easily forget. Bakura was dangerous at the best of times, with or without the Ring. He'd use what he had available to him. The fist in Tristan's stomach was proof of that.

8

That night Yami kept the Ring round his neck, so it rested against the Puzzle, and then the Key hidden in his pyjama pocket. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice, and if Bakura was tempted to come steal any item in the night, he'd have to pry if off of him.

That didn't happen, but the Ring did glow, and it's pointed ends poked at his chest and woke him from a light sleep.

He sat up at once, immediately on the alert for demonic Spirit's. Bakura wasn't there though, and the only sound was Duke turning in his sleep and Joey's soft snoring. Yami felt the two item's round his chest, they were burning just as they had done the night before, only this time the Ring's sharp ends were pointing forwards.

Yami crept out of bed and tested Yugi's link for a second. It was closed and indicated he was asleep. Yami wouldn't wake him, and he held the Ring up and followed it's points out into the living quarters.

It was empty and quiet except for the hum of the radiator and a coarse wind that beat against the window outside. It was very dark, and the clock on the wall indicated it was just past 2 in the morning.

Time hardly mattered to Yami though; and he held the Ring up a bit more and followed it's lead to the door that would take him outside. He turned the handle and crept onto the stairway. The apartment was only a couple of floors up, and he reached the bottom swiftly.

Outside it was very cold, but the Ring was glowing much hotter in his hands and the points were wriggling with an urgency. Yami quickened his pace as he started down the empty street, the cold wind waking up what was left of his sleep and keeping him fully alert.

He'd almost broken into a run when the Ring's points suddenly dropped, and the glowing began to fade. Yami halted and looked all around him, confused, until he saw the narrow opening that carved a driveway between two houses.

In between them was a shadowed figure who appeared to be sitting very still against the wall.

Yami started running to it when he recognised the spiky shock of white hair.

88

Notes: I explained as best I could about the dark Marik/Bakura's mind thing, but it's never supposed to be very clear**. **In my defence it was Bakura's point of view and he doesn't know too much about it himself. All very vague right now.

Also I don't usually write alternating point of views, but I think I'm on at least four in this story! Someone tell me if this is working okay for you. I definitely don't plan on introducing anymore pov's though!


	9. Light Follows Dark

This chapter includes: blink and miss it Psychoshipping and maybe some implied Darkshipping!

**Chapter 9**

**Light follows Dark**

Yami ran to Bakura, the Ring burning in his hands, all it's five points moving rapidly forwards.

Bakura was mostly cast in shadow, but Yami knelt down and easily saw the whiteness of his face. He looked as he had done the night before on the couch, like he might be having some terrible nightmare.

Barely hesitating, Yami put his hands on Bakura's shoulders. They were very cold and Yami could feel the trembling vibrations beneath them. He ignored that as best he could, and shook the Spirit.

"Bakura! Wake up!" he commanded. He felt angry when Bakura didn't.

Instead the Spirit sagged forwards, his head falling lightly against Yami's chest. It was a cold weight, and Yami tensed, hardly used to the close proximity, never mind the strange circumstances.

He pulled Bakura back up against the wall, the items jangling against his chest as he did. He looked down and saw both the Puzzle and the Ring were still glowing very vibrantly. The Ring's points were still on Bakura, like it wanted to return to him.

Yami wasn't sure how that might help, but then he remembered the other item that probably would; the Key still within his pocket.

He fumbled with one hand to pull it out and held it up. It shone brightly against the night, it's heat radiating hotter than both the Puzzle and the Ring combined. Yami realised he could use it.

He looked at Bakura with renewed apprehension. The Spirit was not sleeping; he seemed to be unconscious. Yami was touched with something like concern. He didn't like the Spirit, but he didn't like to see anyone in trouble like this either.

He wielded the Key like a trusty knife and closed his eyes, recalling Shadi's use of the item for a few seconds. Then he moved it toward Bakura, where it instantly began to light up, close to his forehead.

This was for the best; Yami could deal with Bakura's indignation later, but right now he needed to know what was going on.

He could still feel the Puzzle and Ring burning against his chest as he fell into Bakura's mind.

8

It was so cold.

Yami almost passed out as his body tried to adjust to the new surroundings. Everything was clouded and abstract, and he could barely make out the grey walls that indicated he was in a room of sorts. He recognised the presence of Bakura all around him though, as familiar as whenever he had sensed the Ring nearby from within his Puzzle. The very essence of the Spirit dwelled here.

He stood up unsteadily and squinted through the fog to see two figures. One of them was standing up and the other was kneeling down a few feet away, they were both watching each other.

Yami batted away his sickness as he edged closer, close enough to make out who they were.

Dark Marik was standing up, and Yami saw the veined lines of his face twist as he spoke;

"He's still here, then. A human dwelling within your mind. It makes me sick."

The one sitting down was Bakura. Yami could easily see the dark smirk on his face, and he spoke with an amusement that matched it;

"Your better half hates you just as much."

Dark Marik snorted; "_better _half? Is that what he is now?"

Yami took a step closer; neither of them had noticed him yet. The strange dark that surrounded him was a good enough hiding place, so it seemed. He remembered both the Puzzle and the Ring round his neck though, and felt better for having them.

"What is the point of this?" Bakura sounded bored; "If you want the items, you might try fighting me in the Shadow Realm, rather than invading my mind."

Dark Marik laughed. "I never said I wanted the items."

"Then what do you want?" Bakura frowned.

"Why haven't you worked it out, Spirit?" Dark Marik crouched down, barely centre metres away from Bakura. He shook his head, like he was disappointed; "I don't want _items_. Why should I? I don't want anything like that, really."

Bakura tilted his head, betraying any indifference he might have had; "Give me a clue, then?" he said humourlessly.

Dark Marik shrugged; "I want something we can't really take in our hands. I want to see a human's eyes and recognise the sort of fear they possess when they know everything is hopeless, when they know that their final moments are all they have left," he leaned forwards, close to Bakura. "You remember wanting that, right?"

Bakura didn't give much away, his expression quite neutral.

"You want your better half's fear," he realised.

"More than that, I want to destroy him. It'll be easy enough, he's a weak human."

"You're very confident. Rather like him, actually," Bakura grinned when Dark Marik's face dropped into a scowl. "Easy to wind up, too."

"I'm _nothing_ like that pathetic creature."

A fog, very like the one that currently surrounded Yami, suddenly rushed from Dark Marik, and he grabbed Bakura by the collar at the same moment, covering him in a cloak of darkness.

Even though it was Bakura, and Yami hated him so much, his stomach still twisted and he thought he might be sick when the Spirit made a pained sound and shook against the attack. But Yami could only watch, frozen by the darkness all around him, and somehow compelled by the terrible sight.

Then Dark Marik waved his hand shortly, and all the dark fell away again like a curtain. He released Bakura, and the Spirit gasped and dropped onto his back, his chest heaving up and down at a fast rate.

Dark Marik stooped over him, placing a leg either side of the Spirit's torso. He bent down slowly, his voice soft and yet not comforting at all;

"Why not just save yourself all this indignity, and let me through?"

Bakura took time to respond. He was shaking rather badly, and yet when he turned his head Yami saw he was grinning.

"Sorry," he said in a cracked voice, "But I promised."

"Promised?" Dark Marik said curiously. He bent down a little more and squeezed his hand into a fist around Bakura's hair. He held it tight and pulled the Spirit up.

Bakura visibly winced, but his grin broadened, flashing sharp canines. His throat was exposed and there for Dark Marik, almost like some strange vampiric offering. Dark Marik seemed to notice it too, and he angled his head down, flashing his abnormal tongue.

Yami heard Bakura's weak moan, an odd mingling between pain and unwanted pleasure. Then Dark Marik lifted his head up, and Yami saw the blood dripping from his open, leering mouth.

More than that, Yami saw Dark Marik was smiling straight at him, through the fog. Yami started to move, realising he'd been spotted, but the dark swimming around him had suddenly become a sort of barrier, an invisible force stopping him from moving at all. He grabbed his items, but found them cold and useless in his hands. Something was stopping their powers.

He watched, feeling helpless, as Dark Marik turned back to Bakura;

"An ancient demon? Is that really what you are?"

"I suppose so." Bakura was still smirking.

Dark Marik licked his lips and shook his head; "I know you're not all demon anymore."

Bakura stared at him, his dark eyes glittering, but didn't say anything. Dark Marik tilted the Spirit's chin, forcing him to hold his gaze.

"I can sense humanity all around you. I saw it before, when I watched from within my weaker half's minds eye. The way you looked at him. And now, when you could so easily leave me to my weaker half, you insist on getting involved." he paused, his smile creeping wider. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Bakura shifted against his grip; "You misunderstand my motives."

"And yet you'd do all this to protect him," Dark Marik gestured their current position.

Bakura hesitated for too long; "I'm doing it for the items."

"That's not the reason."

A painful silence hung about, and Yami watched, feeling sick, as Bakura turned his head to the side, away from Dark Marik's gaze;

"I won't let you get to Marik." he said coldly.

Yami's stomach twisted; he didn't think Bakura could care like that.

Dark Marik's face lit up with a sense of triumph; "you don't deny it." he shifted over Bakura a bit more, so that his mouth was close to the Spirit's ear. He said something that was too quiet for Yami to hear, and Bakura's reaction didn't help.

The Spirit's face was guarded. Then he laughed loudly, shoving Dark Marik away with a sudden and vicious strength.

"I think you underestimate me." he stood up, and Yami noticed his legs shake a bit. "I'm going to ask you nicely, now. Promise me you will leave your better half alone."

"I am but the emotions of my weaker half's most twisted ideas." Dark Marik sat on the floor, cross-legged and beaming up at Bakura like a demented child. "Do you really think the concept of a promise means anything to me?"

"Not at all," Bakura shook his head; "but I'm offering you fair warning, else you shall be destroyed, and that is _my_ promise."

"Shall I thank you for that warning?" Dark Marik laughed, then his eyes narrowed as he seemed to study Bakura; "you know, at first I thought a Spirit would be no fun to play with. But I think I was wrong." He weighed the Rod playfully in his hand for a few seconds, then stood up.

Yami watched Dark Marik walk away, his body starting to fade into the darkness that shrouded him. He turned to Bakura again with an intrigued expression.

"What makes you care about my weaker half so much, anyway?"

Bakura appeared to tense; "It's not your concern," he said. "Now, if you plan to attack me, let's not waste anymore time."

Marik shook his head, all curiosity melting away.

"Not now, Spirit, you have company."

Before Bakura could say anything, Dark Marik was vanishing into nothing. He turned with a sweeping sound, the strange sort of fog seeping into his body. Yami realised he was actually becoming the fog, and it was starting to thin away from himself too. He tested a foot, and found he could move again with some relief.

Despite this, all he could do was stand as frozen as before and watch Bakura. As the Soul Room became clear again, or as clear as it ever could be against it's grey backdrop, Bakura stood stock-still and stared up at the ceiling. He didn't seem to have noticed Yami.

In the next moment, the Spirit's legs quaked and he fell to his knees. His shoulders shook just a bit as he bowed his head.

Yami knew he shouldn't watch, but it seemed ridiculously pointless now, after everything else he'd already seen.

"Bakura," he spoke into the dark. His voice carried easily to the Spirit.

Bakura did not raise his head, but his shoulders stopped shaking.

Yami swallowed his apprehension, and closed the gap between them quickly. He knelt next to Bakura and noticed his body stiffen.

"Are you okay?" he ventured tentatively. It seemed he had to ask the obligatory redundant and stupid question.

Bakura didn't answer for a little while, probably only a few seconds, but it felt much longer.

"Do you have the Ring?" his voice was rough, leaving no room for conversation, despite everything. He didn't even raise his head to look at Yami.

"Er, yes. I have it right here," Yami held the Ring up.

"Give it to me," Bakura instructed, still not looking at him.

Yami bristled, holding the Ring a bit tighter. It was easy to forget everything that had just happened when Bakura sounded so forceful and familiar.

"Why?"

"Just give it to me."

"I don't want to fight with you, Bakura-"

"Neither do I."

"Then tell me why you want it-"

"-because without it I'm trapped in here!" Bakura snapped, and his angry glare was diminished by the terrible grey colour of his face, the sticky sheen of perspiration that exhausted his features. He looked like he might pass out, and Yami was shocked to find himself hating that. He pulled the Ring off himself at once.

Bakura took it with a thin, sarcastic thank you and then put it over his head. It glowed and hummed as he closed his eyes.

Yami watched with uncertainty; "What are you-"

"We need to get out of here. Use your own item, Pharaoh."

Yami didn't think to question him. He grabbed the Puzzle and felt it's warmth in his palms as light haloed all around him. Nearby Bakura's Ring did the same, until nothing but white exploded in front of his eyes.

8

When Yami opened them he felt spots of water dotting his arms. A cold breeze wrapped round his face and then he heard a weak groan in front of him. He blinked and caught Bakura's dead weight against him.

"Bakura?" he shook the Spirit gently.

Bakura's eyes flickered open, and he frowned vaguely. "How did you get in?" he asked in a faint voice, trying to push Yami away, but with little success. He groaned again and closed his eyes; "you shouldn't be able to..."

"I have the Key," Yami told him.

"Another item?" Bakura laughed weakly; "That's funny. I never knew."

"I never told anybody. Only Yugi," Yami explained, and moved an arm uneasily round Bakura's back. The rain was getting harder, and they needed to get back to the apartment. "Can you get up?" he asked, feeling doubtful when Bakura didn't answer.

Yami moved up onto his knees, gathering the back of Bakura's coat, to get a better hold of him. He grunted as he started to stand; Bakura wasn't very heavy but he wasn't very cooperative either.

The Spirit made a sound of protest, and Yami felt hands on his shoulders, pushing against him, trying to get away.

"I can get up," Bakura said angrily, and almost managed it. But wherever the small surge of energy came from quickly disappeared. Yami grabbed the Spirit as he started to collapse and quickly looped an arm round his shoulder, hauling him up.

"Yes, you really look like you can," he muttered.

"Shut up." Bakura managed a venomous glare.

If he could, Yami was sure Bakura would have hurt him. As it was, Bakura seemed far too weak, and even as he cursed against Yami's hold in a pained way, Yami remembered why he was like that, and realised he had to help.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Bakura glared at him a bit more, but spoke in an uneven voice; "So long as I have the Ring."

Yami looked at the item dangling dully round the Spirit's neck. "Yes, you've got it."

The words seemed to have a lulling effect on Bakura, and he sighed heavily, his head dropping onto Yami's shoulder.

Yami held him a bit tighter, and they made a slow, unsteady journey back to the apartment.

8

By the time they'd reached the apartment they were both soaked. The rain was really lashing down and the wind was whistling obnoxiously around them. Yami almost fell through the door, and barely managed to keep Bakura in his hold as he sank to his knees.

It didn't matter; everyone else was up to greet them, faces frantic with worry or accusation.

"Yami! Are you alright?" Tea said, but it was Marik who rushed through the shocked group and knelt by Bakura.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice a little high."_Bakura_," he placed a hand tight on the Spirit's shoulder, but Bakura's head was bowed and he didn't answer. Marik looked at Yami; "What's wrong with him?" he demanded, "what happened?"

Yami shook his head; "Marik, please let me-"

"-Did-did _you_ do this?" the tomb keeper said savagely. "Did you hurt him-"

"Marik, calm down!" Ryou sounded upset.

"Shut up, Ryou," Marik shrugged the boy's hand away, his glare fixed on Yami. "If you hurt him-"

"No," it was Bakura who spoke, and he raised his head and gazed at Marik. "You're alright, then," his mouth curved up a tiny bit and he started to stand up.

Yami felt him stumble and caught him properly as he passed out.

"Bakura!" Marik cried, grabbing his arm in an instant; "Tell me! What happened to him!"

Yami rubbed his forehead. It ached as he recalled everything that had happened in the Soul Room. He saw Marik's distraught and angry face, his knuckles white around Bakura's arm. Yami didn't think he could tell Marik everything he knew, everything he'd seen. Not yet anyway.

He swallowed, and remembered Yugi in the Puzzle. He'd not thought to open his link to him through all of this, but now he wanted to speak to him more than anything. He knew his host would be waiting.

He shook his head, feeling Bakura's weight against him become a little heavier.

"Why don't you tell me!" Marik said fiercely.

It forced Yami to look the tomb keeper in the eye. Even if he so badly wanted to retreat to his Puzzle, to leave Yugi to handle all of this. Yugi was good with people, people were always understanding with Yugi...

"It was...your other half, Marik," he said instead, hoping his face looked gentle. He didn't know how else to put it. It wasn't a lie.

"Why-why is he doing this?"

"Marik," Ryou put a hand on his shoulder, "this isn't your fault-"

Marik rounded on him, his face incredulous;

"Who says I think that? I know it's not my fault!" he pointed at Bakura with a shriek; "it's _him_! He went back to the Shadow Realm when he knew he shouldn't...he was asking for it! He knew he couldn't beat my dark half...I knew he couldn't...and he still went..."

Marik's voice faded into a weak sob. He sunk onto a nearby chair, and Ryou sat next to him, patting his back and saying words that were supposed to be comforting. Marik seemed quite oblivious though, his teary eyes hard on Bakura.

Yami was still holding the Spirit upright. Bakura murmured something, but Yami didn't think he was very sensible. He felt the Spirit sink against him a little more, and then he noticed everyone's faces, cautious and unsure of what to do.

"Let's get him to the couch," Duke said rather sensibly.

Yami nodded, and Duke helped him, recoiling a bit when he got a proper hold on Bakura.

"He's freezing," he said, then shook his head; "No. He's _always _cold, isn't he? What can we do?"

"What about the hospital?" Serenity suggested, moving for the phone.

"No, that won't help," Yami shook his head; "he's not even alive, really."

"This is pretty messed up." Joey decided.

"If he's cold a hot drink never hurt," said Tea. "And you'll catch your death too if you don't get dry, Yami."

Yami didn't bother reminding her that he was a Spirit too, and pretty immortal with it. It was just nice to see a warm face that wasn't crying, angry or in pain.

Tea took the silence as an affirmative and went into the kitchen to make drinks.

Marik moved onto the couch, curling a hand round Bakura's.

"He _is_ too cold...much colder than usual..." The tomb keeper's face was creased with a sick worry that had been only reserved for Odion before.

It seemed strange that a creature like Bakura might stir such emotion in someone, but then Yami remembered Bakura in the Soul Room, and suddenly it made much more sense. Yami's heart ached for Marik.

"He'll be alright, Marik," he said softly. "He's a Spirit. It's rather hard to get rid of him, you know."

"Unfortunately for us," Tristan grumbled. Serenity frowned and nudged him in the side. "What?" Tristan glared at the couch, "I don't trust him. Even if he is knocked out."

"Don't worry," said Joey, "We've got him outnumbered anyway."

"Yeah and next time he punches you we promise not to laugh," Duke smirked behind his hand.

"Punches?" Marik was confused.

"Nothing," Yami said quickly.

"What exactly happened, anyway?" Serenity sat on the edge of the couch.

"Isn't it obvious?" Marik said, before Yami could even consider offering up an explanation. The tomb keeper wiped a hand over his flushed face. "Idiot thought he could take on that..._thing_...He knew it was a stupid idea. He already tried it. I tried to warn him!"

"Marik, try to calm down," Ryou said soothingly, "We know he'll be okay. Yami just said-"

"-_Right_. He's already _dead._" Marik let go of Bakura's hand suddenly, and some sort of dark realisation passed over his face."So why do I...I don't know why I'm so worried."

The tomb keeper blinked at Bakura, and then stood up fast.

"I'm going to bed."

Everyone watched in silence as Marik disappeared into the bedroom, and Yami felt his stomach pang.

He rested his head in his hands and sighed, welcoming the quiet of the room, even if it was rife with uneasiness.

"I don't understand." Tea broke the silence, offering up a tray of hot chocolate; "How could Bakura get back to the Shadow Realm? He didn't have an item. We got the Ring off him."

"So it would seem." Tristan noticed the item laid across Bakura's chest, and he moved to snatch it up.

"_No_," Yami knocked Tristan's hand away, covering the Ring with his own. He felt Bakura's cold chest move against his palm, but the Spirit did not stir, "Leave it."

"What?" Tristan gave him an odd look.

Yami looked round, and noticed everyone else was looking at him too, as though he might be crazy.

"Are you crazy?" Joey confirmed the idea. "After we just got the item back off the wretched thing-"

"It doesn't matter right now," Yami said, trying to ignore their questioning faces, and then the lingering awkward silence.

"Er, did you get hurt too whilst you were gone?" Duke ventured after a moment, "Like a knock on the head, or something?"

"It'd make sense," Tristan muttered.

"Please," Yami tried not to glare. "Just trust me, we're better off with Bakura having the Ring for now."

"There's a first time for everything, I suppose," Serenity gave Tristan a faintly encouraging smile. He did not look convinced'

"Well. So long as we know that weird version of Marik isn't coming back again tonight?"

"Yes," said Yami, even though he knew he couldn't be sure.

He looked at the Ring, dormant round Bakura's neck, indicating they were safe for the moment, at least. It all depended on Bakura. The Spirit sighed in his sleep, and Yami was touched with guilt, remembering creeping up on the Spirit with the Key, and all of his suspicions.

"Er, I'll go see to Marik then," said Ryou, his eyes brief and uneasy on Bakura; "to make sure he's alright."

Yami nodded, "thank you, Ryou," he looked round at everyone else. "Get some sleep, all of you. I'll keep an eye on Bakura."

"At least have this," Tea pushed a hot chocolate in his hands. "And make sure you get some sleep too. Both of you," she eyed the Puzzle.

Yami gave her a thin smile; he couldn't manage much else.

8

Yami only managed to look properly at Bakura when everyone else had gone to bed. And even then, it did very little to ease his mind. The Spirit had not woken yet, but his expression seemed to have fallen into something more relaxed.

Yami breathed out a shaky sigh, and with it he opened his link up to Yugi, who felt full of anxiety and questions.

"It's my fault," Yami said in a rush, before Yugi could speak. "I took the Ring from him."

"You weren't to know," Yugi said, in a kind voice.

"It hardly matters. Dark Marik almost got back, because of me-"

"-yes, and this is _Bakura, _Pharaoh," Yugi reasoned. "It was common sense to take the Ring off him. We all know what he's capable of with that thing."

"Yes," Yami wanted to agree; it would have made all of this a lot easier. He would have agreed only a few hours ago.

But he had seen Bakura in his own Soul Room. A nasty, dank place, riddled with too much darkness. Very much what Yami had expected to find deep within the Spirit's despicable mind.

But there was something else there too.

Yami remembered the uncertain emotion that shouldn't have been within the demon Spirit, but was anyway. Yami had seen it there when Bakura had confronted Marik's dark half. He had seen it afterwards too, when Bakura had looked at Marik, just to know he was alright.

Yami shook his head to himself. It wasn't even possible...

He stared at the doorway which led to Marik's room, and wondered if the boy had half the inkling of what the Spirit seemed to be doing for him.

Bakura shifted in his sleep, tipping his head to the side. His hand quivered on his chest, fingertips touching the Ring in a subconscious sort of way.

Then he opened his eyes.

Yami swallowed, bracing himself for something, though he wasn't really sure what. Clearly the Spirit was far too weak to do anything very terrible right now anyway.

Instead Bakura blinked slowly, taking a while to get a focus on Yami. When he did, his mouth formed into a sneer.

"Still here, Pharaoh?" he asked in a taunting but strained voice; "I wonder why you bother."

Knowing and remembering Bakura's scornful face, it was almost enough to make Yami want to forget all the things he was beginning to wonder about the Spirit. He bit his tongue and decided to ignore that, though.

"Drink this," he held out his hot chocolate to the Spirit.

"What is it?" Bakura hauled himself upright with some difficulty.

"Hot drink. It'll make you feel better."

Bakura took it with suspicious hands, like it might be poisonous.

"Drink it," Yami repeated. "Or would you like a cold too?"

Bakura eyed Yami intrusively, but didn't say anything. He tipped the cup back and Yami watched him drink with a little satisfaction. He wondered why he should care, though.

Bakura's nasty laugh, mingling into a cough, made him wonder even more.

"What's funny?" he asked, trying to be patient.

Bakura shook his head, taking time to compose himself. "Nothing." he sank back down

into the couch. "I suppose you want my thanks?"

Yami blinked at him. "For what?"

"For helping me out." Bakura curled his lip, like he'd tasted something bad. "Don't make me repeat that."

"I don't want your thanks," said Yami, surprised that the Spirit had even considered it.

Bakura looked mildly surprised too, but amused with it.

"Well. That's just as well then, isn't it? Since I would never thank you."

Yami twitched his hands into instinctual fists, then felt Yugi's link within him. He had to keep calm.

"That was very clever of you, though," Bakura said conversationally. He shifted on the couch, and even though he was in fairly pitiful condition; clothes and hair soaked, and a little blood seeping from his neck, he still somehow managed to look as cocky and self-assured as ever. It was almost an admirable trait.

Yami shook the idea quickly out of his head.

"What was clever?" he asked.

"Using the Key, to get into my mind."

"There wasn't really any other option. It was just lucky I had it with me."

"Dumb luck, you mean?" Bakura seemed disappointed. "I should have known."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it's supposed to mean." Bakura folded his arms. "Although I must say, I expected that sort of thing from Yugi, but never yourself, Pharaoh. I always thought you had more brains than that."

"Leave Yugi alone." Yami uncurled his fists, feeling his rage starting to build. It didn't take much when Bakura was talking.

"Sorry," Bakura said, not looking sorry at all.

"Would you have preferred if I didn't come after you with the Key?" Yami asked angrily. "Would you have preferred if I had just left you to dark Marik's devices? Whatever he had planned to do with you?"

Bakura looked stung and maybe a bit sick.

"I would have _preferred_ that you never took the Ring from me in the first place. Then all of this could have been avoided!"

"_I didn't know_!" Yami said, feeling hot. "If I had known, I would have...I would have let you keep the Ring."

Bakura laughed, his whole body shaking with the strange, unfounded amusement.

"It's true!" Yami snapped. "I'm not so heartless as you!"

Bakura just laughed harder, his eyes shining even in the dark; "Am I supposed to believe that?" he mostly choked through his disbelief.

"_Yes_," Yami set his jaw. "And after all you've done to us in the past, you _should _thank me for bothering to save your vile little life."

It seemed to set Bakura off even more, onto the edge of gleeful hysterics.

"My vile little life!" he exclaimed; "You..you really don't remember anything, do you, Pharaoh?" he tossed his head back.

Yami couldn't stand it. He grabbed the Spirit roughly by the shirt, drawing him very close and speaking in a low, dangerous voice;

"Snap out of it, you maniac."

Bakura quietened, and his grin relaxed into a tired smile. His eyes fixed on Yami's narrow ones for a short moment, then he bowed his head, so that he seemed to focus on Yami's chest. Yami realised he was looking at the Millennium items. The Puzzle and the Ring were hanging off both of them, glowing faintly and touching each other a tiny bit.

Yami drew a breath, trying to temper his impatience.

"What...what don't I remember?" he asked slowly.

Bakura didn't answer him, but he placed a hand carefully on the Puzzle, like he might be entranced by it.

Then Yami felt the taut and strained presence of his enemy's link, somehow mixing into his own. It felt as it always did when he sensed the Ring's presence, and the Spirit itself. The feeling that usually inspired hatred and a need to react, but now Yami felt something else there too.

Through Bakura's flowing link, Yami could feel fragile, exhausted energy that shivered as it entered his mind, like it was almost too weak to sustain itself for very long. Yami couldn't tell if it was dark or not, but it was new and he'd never felt it before.

As the damaged energy twined through him, Yami opened up his own link completely, and allowed it to flood into Bakura's. He was unable to stop himself; these feelings that had suddenly found him, they were new and exciting.

It was dizzying, to _know_ another Spirit. Another ancient, five thousand year old being that existed essentially as he did. To feel like he wasn't so alone in his predicament. To know that this mind had lived as he had done all those years ago. It was a wonderful thing. Even if it was Bakura.

His own mind, gushing like electricity within Bakura's link, must have had a similar, if more overwhelming effect on the Spirit. Yami could feel Bakura trembling against him.

It pulled Yami to his senses, and he realised how incautious and foolish he was being. He couldn't trust Bakura snooping about his mind! And Ra- Yugi was in there! Yami grabbed Bakura's shoulders, feeling the Spirit shudder irregularly.

Yami had forgotten how close they were; he could see the delicate flutter of the Spirit's lashes as he seemed to sag against him. Bakura looked flushed and more exhausted than ever.

"Pharaoh," he said breathlessly; "you shouldn't feel so angry all of the time. It must be nice...to be a soul, and nothing else...must be nice..."

Bakura's vague smile fell into a grimace, and then he closed his eyes and seemed to pass out, his presence slipping out of Yami's mind altogether.

Yami tried, as his mind became clear, to process what the Spirit had meant.

"Pharaoh?" Yugi's voice interrupted, soft and near the front of his mind.

"Yugi, are you alright?" Yami asked anxiously.

"Of course, I'm fine."

"Did he- did Bakura-"

"Something's happened to him, hasn't it?" Yugi interrupted.

"What?" Yami whispered.

"The Spirit, I mean. Something happened to him."

"I don't ..." Yami tailed off and looked at Bakura, who was quiet and still against his chest. He could still feel the strange presence of the Spirit ghosting his mind, and he knew Yugi had felt it too. "Yes, something's happened."

There was no point denying anything, Yami knew his host better than that, and Yugi knew him well enough too. They didn't keep secrets.

"He's soaking," Yugi observed.

Yami deliberated a moment, then pulled- or more peeled, Bakura's wet jacket off him and replaced him gently back on the couch. Bakura stirred a little, and opened his eyes, but didn't really seem to see Yami even as he stared at him.

Yami bent close to the Spirit.

"You're protecting Marik, aren't you?"

Bakura frowned, like it was hard to register the idea.

"Is that what it is?" he asked.

"It's.." Yami faltered. He didn't really know how he was supposed to answer Bakura's confused expression.

Bakura didn't seem interested in his answer anyway. He tossed his head and closed his eyes, dropping off into sleep fairly quickly.

Yami stared at him.

"Protecting Marik?" Yugi repeated through their link.

Yami leaned back in his chair, and sighed. "Why would he do that anyway?"

He felt Yugi's hesitation, and then his voice within his mind again; "Maybe he cares?" Yugi saw the best in everyone. Even demonic Spirits, apparently.

Yami kept his gaze on Bakura, wanting to be doubtful, but finding himself mostly confused instead. His mind ached with the remnants of the Spirit's link, and all the new feelings that lingered there.

"Maybe," he said at last.

He didn't really know anymore. Even if he didn't trust Bakura, he still didn't know.

88

Marik was the first to find the note from Yugi on the table the next morning.

He hadn't had a good nights sleep, having spent most of it trying not to think about Bakura. So what if he actually cared, and didn't want Bakura to be hurt; Bakura was not a person, he probably didn't even feel real human pain anyway. It didn't matter. Marik shouldn't have to worry.

He managed not to look at Bakura as he ate his breakfast, occasionally scanning the note, and feeling reassured that Yugi had added a PS, telling them all that Bakura should be okay.

"You're up early." Ryou came in, looking sleepy and with messy hair. He peered cautiously at the couch. "Is he...?"

"Read this," Marik handed Ryou the note. He watched as the pale boy's face set into confusion when he finished it.

"Yugi's gone out? Where did he go?"

Marik shrugged; "search me."

"Maybe the Spirit can tell us?"

Marik snorted and turned back to his cereal. "It's your funeral, but go ahead."

"Don't be like that." Ryou sat down, near to him, "I don't think..." he lowered his voice, looking round the room for a short second. "I don't think he's so bad, really."

"Well good for you," Marik stirred his spoon idly. "Let me know when you realise you're talking rubbish."

Ryou pouted. "He worried about you."

"I don't believe it." Marik shook his head. "He doesn't have the ability. It's like talking to a robot. A really broken robot."

"What's a broken robot?" Tea came into the room, her hair wet and making her look a little drowned. "Don't use the shower. It likes to torment people."

"That would have been a nice warning yesterday," said Ryou. "When I was alternating between freezing and burning."

"Yes, this place is full of charm, isn't it?" Duke strode in, immaculate as ever. "How's my favourite tv repair demon?" he peered over the couch at Bakura; "Aw, sleeping like a baby. A demon dead baby, but still quite sweet."

"Or a really broken robot," Ryou muttered.

Marik gave Duke a curious look; "tv repair demon?"

"Oh, didn't you know? Millennium items make great tv tuners, apparently." Ryou informed. "We were very productive yesterday," he added as an afterthought.

A freezing, shower cursing Joey appeared a little later, to be comforted by Tea and a hot cup of tea. Serenity sat in a dressing gown and bunny slippers nearby, eating toast and laughing at her brother.

Tristan was the last to make an appearance, and kept rereading Yugi's note with a very suspicious face.

"He said he wouldn't be long, and he's not even answering his phone."

"It's not been very long," Serenity pointed out. "Let's give him a little longer before we start panicking."

Tristan glared at the couch; "why don't we just wake it up and be done with it? I know you're all thinking it."

"Don't be silly," said Tea. "He hasn't moved at all."

"It has the Ring, it wouldn't need to," Tristan argued.

"You're paranoid," Joey said through a mouthful of toast.

"Oh, just because we happen to have an evil Spirit in the room, with the potential to banish us all to the Shadow Realm, and for some reason, _conveniently, _Yugi has disappeared, without even bothering to tell us where, suddenly I'm paranoid?"

"...Well, when you put it like that," Joey scratched his head, and looked a bit wary.

"I doubt the Spirit would be up to much," Tea reasoned. "I mean it wasn't in such great condition last night, was it?"

Marik felt her eyes on him, and he knew she was giving him a sympathetic look, like she expected him to be so concerned. He'd surprise her and just keep eating his breakfast, then.

"I still don't understand why Yami said it should keep the Ring," said Serenity. "Anyone else think that's a bit odd?"

"It's more than odd. It's loopy, is what it is. We're all askin' for trouble, ain't we?" Joey gave Tea an apprehensive look.

"Shouldn't we be trusting Yami?" she frowned. "If he says it's okay, I believe him."

"Only because you're in love with him," Serenity smirked.

Tea gave her a light shove and blushed furiously; "that's not true. And even if I was, I wouldn't let it cloud my judgement!"

"Right," Serenity laughed. "Nice to know your judgement hasn't been clouded then."

Tea sighed in the direction of the couch, where Tristan was standing over the Spirit with a distrustful face.

"I don't think anyone who can fix a tv is truly evil." Duke remarked. "I'm sorry, that's just my opinion."

"Your opinion is crazy, therefore invalidated," Tristan said.

"Like I care what you think," Duke said haughtily. "Come on, you guys. I'm with the Yugi-Spirit loving girl here," he jerked his head at a reddening Tea; "if the Spirit guy in Yugi says it's okay, I think we can trust that the demon guy hasn't done anything to him in the last few hours, right?"

There was a small, undecided silence. Then Ryou, to everyone's surprise, scraped back his chair and walked over to the couch where Bakura was still sleeping. He knelt down and spoke in a soft voice;

"There's only one way to really know, isn't there?" he nudged Bakura's arm before anyone could object.

Bakura took his time about waking up, and Marik tried to be nonchalant about peering over his breakfast to look at him.

The Spirit looked tired and groggy, but better. Marik realised he felt very relieved about that, especially when Bakura did an admiral job of pushing Ryou away. He'd obviously gathered most of his strength back then.

"Sorry," Ryou edged quickly off the couch, "I- we just wanted to talk to you, if that's okay?"

"Don't bother with the pleasantries," Tristan said, "he's talking and that's that."

Bakura rubbed his eyes as he sat upright, looking past an expectant Tristan to meet Marik's gaze. Marik quickly averted his eyes to his breakfast. Now that Bakura was awake, the tomb keeper could feel their link reforming, and Bakura was completely open to him. Marik ignored it, and closed his own link up. He knew better than intruding now.

"_Hey_. Are you listening?" Tristan snapped.

Bakura gazed idly up at him; "_Yes_?"

"Are you going to explain yourself?"

"Explain what?"

Tristan dangled his cell phone in front of the Spirit; "about how convenient it is that you can't get a phone signal whilst trapped in the Shadow Realm?"

Bakura pulled a face; "I haven't any idea what you're talking about."

"Don't lie to me," Tristan warned.

"Lie about what?" Bakura flashed a lazy grin. He seemed to enjoy winding Tristan up, and it was working.

Tristan stepped closer to the Spirit, balling his hands into fists; "What have you done to Yugi?" he demanded.

"What would I want with that little twit?" Bakura folded his arms. "Perhaps you mean the Pharaoh?"

"Does it matter which? If one's missing, they both are!"

"Hey, let's just calm down," Duke cut in, before Tristan could get any closer, "you can't go accusing like that, you don't have any proof."

"Like I need any!" Tristan shoved Duke, "get out of the way."

"Hey!" Duke shoved him back.

"Boys!" Tea interrupted; "This isn't helping anything!" she leaned in to both of them and lowered her voice; "also, your target of affection is not getting any more impressed with either of you right now."

Duke and Tristan turned obviously to Serenity, abashed and apologetic.

Duke cleared his throat, glaring briefly at Tristan before rearranging his face into something cheerful. He sat on the couch, near to Bakura.

"I'm surprised really. You'd think cell phones would have good reception in the Shadow Realm, after the tv thing."

Bakura curled his lip; "is that what you think I did? You think I banished your precious Pharaoh?"

"Wonderful deduction," said Tristan.

"You might also deduct that I did no such thing," Bakura said sourly, "Since the Puzzle is still not in my possession. Why would I waste my energy banishing a Millennium item to the Shadow Realm? Especially when one has already been lost to it."

"He has a point," Joey conceded. "Maybe we should actually believe the note."

"Ra forbid you lot do something involving common sense," Bakura rolled his eyes.

"_Shut up._" Tristan growled.

Ryou quickly moved between Bakura and Tristan, offering the Spirit some toast and smiling eagerly; "are you feeling better?"

Bakura gave him an odd look. "Yes." he took the food anyway.

"Oh good. We were worried, for a bit," Ryou glanced at Marik.

Marik's face burned as he felt Bakura's eyes on him. But the Spirit looked blank, like he couldn't understand anyway.

Good. Marik didn't want Bakura to think he worried, anyway.

"Speak for yourself," Tristan snorted; "I was worried for_ us_."

Bakura did not seem to acknowledge Tristan's words, or if he did, it didn't seem to bother him. He stood up, and Marik couldn't help but notice he was a little unsteady on his feet. Still, he walked to Marik with intent.

Marik turned to the sink, pretending to wash dishes.

"Marik-"

"Nothings wrong, Bakura," Marik said quickly.

Bakura hesitated, and Marik took the opportunity to glimpse the Spirit's link. It was still open wide for him, but Marik only dared find the most prominent emotion within him; a jittery sort of confusion.

"Why are you angry?" Bakura asked, proving the emotion.

"It doesn't matter," Marik slammed a cup down. "It's not like you'll listen, is it?"

He turned away, not waiting for Bakura's answer, before addressing the entire room;

"I'm going to visit Odion for a bit." he said, then felt Bakura's hand on his arm.

"I'm coming with you," the Spirit said forcefully.

"Fine," Marik pulled away, but turned round to look at Bakura properly for the first time that morning. He did his best to ignore the pale, tired looking face, and withdrawn features. He eyed the millennium item; "then leave the Ring here."

"What?" Bakura looked confused.

"Leave the Ring here," Marik repeated impatiently, "Then I can know you won't try to go back to the Shadow Realm. Or something stupid like that."

"Yeah, I'm liking that idea," Tristan stood near to Marik.

Bakura looked between them both, as though considering what to do.

"But Yami said he should keep-" Ryou started to speak.

"I don't care what he says," Marik snapped.

He really didn't. He just wanted Bakura to listen to him for once. He kept his gaze steady on the Spirit, waiting for his response.

Bakura looked strangely awkward, watching Marik for a few uneasy seconds. Then he pulled the Ring off with halting hands. He handed the item to Ryou without a glance in his direction, and smiled wryly at Marik;

"Happy?"

Marik wasn't; he wouldn't be happy until he knew Bakura wouldn't leave, and go do something stupid and get hurt again. But for now things would have to do.

"Let's just go." he sighed.

"Take this," Ryou pressed a cell phone into his hand. "It's got Yugi's number, just incase."

"Incase what?" Marik was completely bemused by Ryou's concerned face.

"I don't know. Just incase." Ryou held the Ring up doubtfully. Marik caught the awkward glance between he and Bakura, like they both knew something he did not.

He tried not to care, as he staved off his curiosity, shutting off the link between himself and Bakura completely. He didn't have to know anymore. He could learn not to care.

88

notes: Bakura/Marik people, this story is still going along that path! Although it has been mostly gen fic up to this point, it should step up a gear in the next chapter ;)


	10. Revelations

**Chapter 10**

**Revelations**

Bakura was confused.

He had been getting used to Marik being at his side, and that was disconcerting in itself. But more disconcerting was the fact that it wasn't happening now. Marik was avoiding him, and seemed unreasonably angry about something he could not figure out.

He sided up to the human, who walked briskly, keeping his gaze right ahead. His mouth was a thin, straight line of seriousness.

Bakura liked Marik's mouth when it twisted up, curving something most humans called a smile. Bakura had never really thought about it before Marik. But now he did, and he missed it. Ra, he missed Marik just looking at him.

"You didn't have to come," Marik said.

"You're so charming."

"Why don't you shut up."

"That's not very nice." Bakura smirked, and then found himself distracted anyway.

He looked around, for the first time really noticing people in the street, walking about and doing their ordinary things. Talking, smiling, laughing.

They made it look so easy. It was insulting really, how something mortal might be able to do that, and not even have to think about it.

Bakura envied the woman who looped her arm round the man at her side, and how she talked so easily. How her face crinkled when she laughed, and then how he laughed too. It was like some common yet secret gift within human species, and Bakura wanted in on it.

It had been the main reason for entering the Pharaoh's mind the other night. He couldn't remember much of it; it had been far too tiring for that, but he did remember how alarmingly different it had been. How easy it had been just to know that the Pharaoh possessed something that he never could.

Bakura had never thought he could be jealous. He wasn't supposed to want things like that. It was supposed to be repulsive. And yet he had been gripped by a human essence, and now he found he couldn't shake the thought of it.

He wanted it when he saw Marik's unhappy face, and knew he had to think of the right thing to say. He wanted to understand why Marik was so angry with him, and how he was supposed to fix it.

They had almost reached Domino City Hospital though. There wasn't much time left, before Marik would be with his family, and Bakura would feel out of place.

Remembering the laughing humans, it somehow spurred him on. He reached out and touched Marik's shoulder lightly.

"Yes?" Marik halted.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong with you?" Bakura asked.

"Is there really any point?"

Bakura removed his hand from the tomb keeper; "I don't understand."

Marik turned to face him. He looked like he might be trying to appear stern, but his eyes were gleaming emotions Bakura recognised in the human very well now.

"Of course you don't understand. That's exactly the problem, isn't it?" the tomb keeper said.

Bakura stared at Marik's back as he turned away again, feeling more frustrated than angry. He caught the tomb keeper's arm on an unknown instinct, whirling him back round.

"I'm not wearing the Ring, just as you requested, Marik! What else am I supposed to do?"

"For now you're not wearing it. But you _will_, even if I don't want you to."

"So? Why does it bother you so much?"

"It doesn't…" Marik shook his head. "What's the use? What do you care? You can't understand anyway."

"If you made more sense I might." Bakura suggested, his confusion turning into annoyance; "You're making all of this more trouble than it's worth."

Marik scowled; "It doesn't need to be any trouble. I just don't want you to go back…after my dark half. I just want you to _stay here_. Why can't you get that?"

Bakura tried to think of a reasonable answer, but he couldn't manage it. It was hard enough with Marik's link firmly blocked, to be able to understand the human. Ra, he could barely understand humans anyway, never mind one so difficult as Marik… "What's that?" Marik interrupted his agitated thoughts. He was pointing at Bakura's neckline.

Bakura looked down to see the streak of red there.

"Nothing," he said, remembering Dark Marik's sharp mouth and suddenly feeling very strange, like he might be sick.

"More secrets?" Marik murmured, turning away.

Bakura dithered on the spot, lost in a few seconds of uncertainty. He looked at his chest, where the Ring was supposed to be, and swallowed the nauseous feeling in his throat.

"Marik-" he started.

"We're here," Marik interrupted. He looked at the hospital entrance with a nervous face. "Are you coming in?" his voice cracked a bit, and Bakura realised he couldn't say no.

"Alright," he said.

"Thank you," said Marik, and Bakura was rewarded with a small smile. It warmed him a ridiculous amount.

8

The hospital smelt of very strong disinfectant, and though Bakura had been there before, he still hated the place.

As if it wasn't enough to be reminded of human mortality each and every day. These buildings were like the glowing neon sign that advertised it constantly.

The weaknesses of mortals was all around them; the dead or the dying, bottled medicines and pills, and strange beeping machines. It all made Bakura feel very uncomfortable.

He felt Marik grip his arm as they walked along the white corridors. Bakura didn't need a mind link to know Marik was scared and upset about his brother. Not that mind links mattered right now. Marik's was still firmly closed off to him.

Bakura tried not to care. Perhaps it was for the best; a closed off link might even be a useful protection against dark Marik. Bakura couldn't be sure, though. He only knew so far as his own experiences, and right now he was working in a whole new world of them.

He looked at his item-less chest again and cursed himself for it. He'd promised himself he wouldn't think about it. Marik was more important, for the moment.

Marik's hand squeezed his arm as they entered a closed off ward, and then he let go and rushed to Ishizu, hugging her tight.

Bakura hung awkwardly back. He didn't want to see such easy, secret, human things.

"Hello Bakura," Ishizu greeted him warmly, and her eyes were big and imploring, like he was supposed to say something important to her. She looked at his chest and then spoke rather close to him, so that Marik wouldn't hear; "where's the Ring?"

Bakura moved away from her. "it doesn't matter."

He ignored her questioning face, and watched as Marik sat next to an unconscious Odion, and then how he cried to his sister, like humans were want to do.

Bakura leaned back in a chair and studied the intricate marks on the plastered wallpaper near to him. He wasn't going to pretend he was concerned for Marik's brother. He did not care about Odion at all. He only wanted him to get better so that Marik might get better again too.

It was probably selfish, although Bakura couldn't really be sure why. Right now he thought Marik himself was rather selfish, closing off links and saying things that made no sense.

Bakura frowned at the tomb robber; he was still so teary and Bakura hated it.

But Ishizu seemed to be good at cheering Marik up. She talked about how when their brother got better they would live normal lives, and not have to live under the rule of the tomb keeper anymore. Occasionally she looked at Bakura, and he was almost taken by how strong her gaze was. It was like she was expecting something monumental from him.

He was going to have to disappoint her, then.

Bakura turned his head to the window, hoping that Marik hadn't noticed his staring too much.

8

When they finally left the hospital the sun was starting to dip behind the horizon, a pinkish glow following it as dusk arrived.

"I didn't mean to stay so long," Marik said. "thank you for staying with me."

Bakura shrugged; "I don't mind if it's you," he said without thought.

Marik looked touched, and his face seemed to soften. Bakura was happy to see it; it was much better than the look he had been getting used to of late. Maybe being without the Ring, just for today, would have been worth it after all…

"Bakura," Marik said quietly.

He had stepped a little closer without Bakura even realising it, and he held out his hand at a strange angle, his fingers hardly millimetres away from Bakura's face. Bakura stared at them, watching as they fell very light on his jaw, and then crept down to his collarbone, where dark Marik's mark still was.

Marik frowned at it and then looked at Bakura; "What happened?" he asked, like he might be afraid; "what did…did he hurt you?"

Bakura swallowed. His throat was too dry and he found he couldn't give a very coherent response.

Marik's fingers were like a bewildering electricity on his skin, disabling all reason within his mind. For a tiny instant he wanted to mimic the move, he wanted to know what Marik's skin felt like too, and whether it could bring about the same nonsense sensation in the tomb keeper.

Instead he took Marik's wrist and moved the hand away. It almost hurt to do so, and he regretted it when he saw Marik's expression, somehow disappointed.

Marik stepped back; "sorry. I didn't mean to do that." he looked embarrassed.

"It's okay," Bakura didn't know what else to say. It was perfectly okay, so far as he could tell. Okay enough that he wished Marik would do it again. His skin felt far too cold now.

"Look, the arcades," Marik suddenly pointed ahead, where a large building stood out, only because of it's garish neon lit sign; flashing pink and blue at random intervals. "doesn't it look great?"

Bakura gave him an odd look; "I suppose."

Marik's mouth curved into a hopeful grin; "shall we go in? Just for a little bit?"

"I'm not especially fond of those places, Marik."

Marik didn't seem to hear, and he pulled Bakura by the arm, "c'mon, it'll be fun."

Bakura looked at the arcade doubtfully, and then Marik's bright face. He'd been working to see that much of the day; it'd be a waste to let Marik down now. And Marik was still holding onto him, rekindling strange electricity that he sort of…enjoyed.

The Ring, other problems, they could wait.

8

It was so loud and bright in the arcade, and Bakura already had the constant beat of a headache at the back of his mind. He scowled at a gang loitering just inside the arcade, and grinned when Marik pulled him away from the waiting fight.

"We're not here to cause trouble, we're here to have fun."

"_Fun._" Bakura repeated the word experimentally, observing people shooting at screens, slotting money into random, flashing machines and generally being very noisy. It was almost as unpleasant as the hospital. And at least hospital machines were much quieter.

"Yes, _fun_," Marik grinned, "I promise we won't stay long. Follow me." he kept a good hold on Bakura's wrist, and led him to a toy grabbing machine.

It flashed bright colours and an obnoxious voice sounded from it's speaker. Bakura already hated it, but Marik was beaming and searching around in his pockets for some money.

"You have to try and get the toy," he explained.

Bakura watched with some amusement as Marik tried to direct the grabber onto one of the random stupid toys, his face fixed into extreme concentration.

Bakura already knew enough about arcades. Ryou had been a few times before, and from within the Ring Bakura had been given the displeasure of observing everything that went on in them. He'd hated them back then, too.

Marik was a nice distraction this time, though. It was different when he could just watch Marik's reactions and notice how much happier he was. Bakura could almost start to appreciate arcades because of it.

"Damn. I missed it." Marik pouted. "Oh well."

"Wouldn't it be easier to try a different tactic?" Bakura suggested.

"What do you mean?" Marik asked warily.

"Like this," Bakura slipped his hand into the prize dispenser.

"That won't work-" Marik started, then looked a bit shocked when he noticed the flash of metal in Bakura's hand.

Bakura sliced his knife easily into the plastic of the machine, cutting through and finding one of the soft toys with it.

"_Bakura…"_ Marik hissed, looking round very obviously.

Bakura pulled the knife back out, an impaled toy bunny dangling off the end of it.

"There you are," he held it out to Marik.

Marik stared between the bunny and Bakura, his face quivering oddly, almost like he might cry. Bakura hoped he wouldn't; he'd had enough of that for one day.

To his surprise, Marik burst into laughter, his face moving in a way that reminded Bakura of the woman he'd seen earlier, and how much he had envied her for it.

He smiled a bit. It was like he'd cracked a secret. Humans weren't always so difficult.

"You want it?" he waved the bunny a little.

Marik took it, nodding happily, then his hand closed round Bakura's holding the knife. "You might want to put that away though. People generally aren't very sociable around sharp shiny things."

"I know," Bakura grinned, but tucked the knife away anyway.

He let Marik show him a shooting game, which mostly involved jamming buttons and waiting for the screen to tell him if he'd won or not.

"You're good at this," Marik grumbled; "are you sure this is your first time?"

Bakura nodded; "I can't imagine myself in here at any other time. Willingly, at least."

Marik grinned, waving the bunny in his face; "Shut up. The bunny demands we get a drink."

"All this losing making you thirsty?" Bakura wondered

"Hey!" Marik jabbed him in the side, then led the way to a little drinks bar in the corner of the arcade, flashing adverts all over it.

He ordered a milkshake and Bakura rested his elbows on the bar, picking at Marik's toy.

Marik smiled at him; "I meant what I said."

"What's that?"

"I am grateful you stopped at the hospital. I know you hate those places."

"I hate _these_ places too," Bakura pointed out.

"You hate everything," Marik sighed, but looked rather content. He reached out and tapped Bakura's chest. "See. You can live without it."

Bakura looked down and remembered the Ring. He had almost forgotten about it. Marik was too good a distraction really.

"You already impaled that thing, now you're gutting it too?" Marik shook his head. "you sick bastard."

"Hm?" Bakura looked down at the bunny toy and all it's stuffing in his hand. He quickly put it back in and pushed it over to Marik.

"I think it'll make a full recovery, doctor." Marik grinned.

Bakura wanted to return it, but the dim headache that was always there suddenly came to the front of his mind. He winced and closed his eyes, hoping it might just pass.

"Are you alright?" Marik asked.

Bakura didn't really hear. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the odd feeling rising in his stomach.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Bakura said, hating that he sounded so unconvincing.

"Alright," Marik didn't seem very convinced either. He prodded his straw awkwardly in his drink for a moment or two, then said, much more softly; "So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?"

Bakura tensed, and straightened against the bar.

"Come on," Marik rolled his eyes. "you thought I wouldn't ask about you turning up unconscious on the doorstep, with _the Pharaoh_, of all people?"

Bakura pulled a face, keeping his eyes on the bar; "you don't have to be so dramatic about it."

"Excuse me for being concerned."

Bakura flinched inwardly. Hearing the hurt in Marik's voice was enough to make him turn and look at the tomb keeper.

Marik's gaze was intense, his face shining between the reds, blues and greens of the arcade lights that danced over him. Bakura was taken by it, and he could almost forget the headache and every tiring thought associated with it when he just watched Marik like that. Even the loud noises of the arcade seemed to fade away into the background, and it was like nobody else was there.

"Please tell me," Marik repeated, his voice touched with some imploring urgency.

But it was difficult, even though Bakura knew Marik was the only human he could properly talk to.

After all, there had been very little incite with Ryou, who had always been quiet and easy to manipulate. And brief entanglements with the Pharaoh hardly counted.

It hardly mattered; Marik was not any of those humans, anyway.

Bakura felt like he could talk to Marik about more than what he already knew. He felt like he could talk about what might be, and what he thought he remembered from so many years ago. Marik helped his dormant curiosity come alive more than anything else.

He felt like he knew Marik well enough, or as well as he could learn to know any human.

With that in mind, he gave the human a careful look; "Why do you want to know?"

"I…" Marik seemed to move closer, and his hand was light on Bakura's. "I was worried about you."

Bakura took a short breath, and he leaned forwards too, not knowing what was inclining him to do so. He wasn't sure what he intended to do, either. But he was so close he could see his own arcade-lit reflection in Marik's eyes. And then the tomb keeper's warm breath, soft on his face, so unlike his darker half. Bakura closed his eyes, imagining how much gentler he'd be, how much more different…

The headache pulled sharp at his link, like a tear through his mind, and then Bakura realised what it really was.

Sensations of last night poured into him; searing pains within his head, terrible coldness capturing his essence, the magnetic and forced pull of his Soul Room, and the darkness that was waiting there for him…

He snapped open his eyes to see Marik, whose head was tilted for some reason, his violet eyes half-closed and dark with a strange emotion.

"Bakura..." the tomb keeper said softly. He was still so close. Bakura jolted back, away from him.

He cleared his throat; "Marik, I…I have to get the Ring now."

Marik straightened, his hooded eyes hardening; "Why?"

"There's no time to explain," Bakura moved to leave, but was yanked back by his wrist with alarming speed.

"_No_! I'm not letting you go back to the Realm again! We've already been through this-"

"There's nothing to go through, Marik!" Bakura felt more desperate than angry, but hoped he was offering Marik a well practised glare all the same.

Even if he was, it didn't seem to be working. Marik's grip was stubborn and infuriating.

Bakura looked around quickly. The arcade was dark and loud, it would be easy to slip out using a little force. He could be subtle about it, nobody would notice. He gave Marik an imploring look anyway. Force would have to be a last resort.

"_Please_."

"No." said Marik. "I won't let you."

Bakura didn't know what else to do. As his headache throbbed, it reminded him of their link, and he searched for it. It should have been easy to find, but Marik was still completely closed off to him. There was nothing to latch onto, nothing to try to connect with. It was more than irritating now. It was upsetting.

Bakura snarled through his teeth, and then twisted sharply against Marik's hold, pulling the tomb keeper roughly up. Marik whimpered as Bakura caught his wrists against his own, and then turned him swiftly round, so that the tomb keeper's back touched his stomach. Then he pulled the knife from his pocket.

"We're going, no arguments."

He pressed the blade against Marik's back, not so hard but hard enough that Marik might know his intention.

"You wouldn't dare." Marik said, his voice close to Bakura's ear.

Bakura slide the knife a bit harder against him, feeling the tomb keeper's shiver. He swallowed, keeping a good hold on his arm. "Don't test me, Marik."

"Fine," Marik said slowly, and complied as Bakura steered him toward the arcade exit.

Bakura could feel the tomb keeper's fear; the hard beat of a heart, even if he couldn't feel their link right now. He was always good at that; finding and relishing the essence of human helplessness. Usually it gave him a thrill, but right now his head hurt too much, and this was Marik_._

"So you'd do this…all for that cursed Ring, then?" Marik said. "I thought we…I thought I was your friend."

Bakura didn't answer, he didn't think he could.

Outside, the street was empty and dark. They had stopped long enough, wasted enough time, and now Marik was in danger again. Bakura gritted his teeth as he released the tomb keeper, who jumped away from him, his face betrayed.

Bakura did his best to ignore it. His head was buzzing and it made it hard to focus on much else.

"You would have done it, wouldn't you?" Marik eyed the knife, gleaming in Bakura's hand. "if I hadn't come with you, you would have done it!"

Bakura ignored him; "We have to go now," he said, much more calmly than he felt; "I must have possession of the Ring again."

"For what? To go back to the Realm? Are the items really that important to you?"

"You don't understand." Bakura shook his head. The ache was becoming far too overwhelming.

"Stop saying that! _You _don't understand!" Marik stood in front of him, blocking his path. "why can't you listen to me? Why can't you understand how _worried_ I am?"

Bakura winced. Marik's yell felt like a terrible, magnified echo bouncing about in his ears, making them ring and buzz.

"Marik, _please listen_-"

"No! _You_ listen!" Marik knocked the knife from Bakura's hand.

Bakura stared as it fell to the floor, feeling distantly annoyed. He looked back at Marik, noticing the tomb keeper's trembling fists.

"Would you have done it?" the human demanded. "Would you have hurt me like that?"

Bakura turned away; "I don't have time for this. Please move out of my way."

But Marik didn't move; and Bakura knew he wouldn't. The tomb keeper was just too stubborn for his own good. At any other time Bakura could have enjoyed it, could have realised it was a reason he liked Marik so much. A human who was fearless and did not care about pressing knives, dangerous threats and promised warnings.

Bakura couldn't handle it now, though.

The ringing in his mind seemed to blur into a roar of agony. He dodged around Marik a couple of times, and then a red mist descended across his vision.

His fist connected solidly with Marik's jaw, hard enough that it made himself stagger, but that didn't deter him. The blind fear that snatched at Marik's face was almost welcoming, and Bakura was mostly satisfied when he crunched another fist into the tomb keeper's stomach, and Marik met the wall with a whimpering groan.

Bakura didn't wait for him to drop; he caught Marik and held him up, tight and rough by the collar, so that his back scratched the wall and his feet dangled off the ground.

"What…what are you doing?" Marik's voice was weak, and Bakura thought it was pathetic.

He remembered all humans were pathetic, and he wondered why he'd ever cared, as he adjusted his hands round the tomb keeper's neck. It felt good to do, like he should have done it all along.

He grinned when Marik's eyes widened, and the tomb keeper's breath started to hitch with some difficulty. His hands were clawing at the wall, and then at Bakura himself, still all weak and unbearable. Bakura ignored it.

"Maybe this'll teach you." he hissed, leaning close to the human. "Maybe then you'll learn not to test me." he squeezed Marik's neck.

"Bakura…" Marik choked, and then his hand grabbed at Bakura's chest. "You…you don't know what you're doing…"

"_Shut up." _Bakura squeezed Marik harder.

It still felt good, watching human emotion run into pain; but something was bothering his mind again. Something was trying to clear the red mist that had invaded it. Bakura shook his head, like that might stop it.

"_You're hurting me…" _

Marik's voice was faint and pitiful in the back of Bakura's mind. But it was there. It touched upon the remaining tendrils of Bakura's sanity, or more his memories and everything he had come to know and remember about Marik.

He blinked, feeling like he'd awoken from a heavy sleep, to see Marik's eyes roll. Bakura felt sick with the sight.

He released the tomb keeper at once, and Marik slid down the wall, shaking and gasping.

Bakura stared at him. He was dizzy with confusion and his mind ached with everything inside of it.

"That…that was scary." Marik breathed after a moment, rubbing his neck. Then he looked up, his gaze incredulous; "would you…were you really going to kill me?"

Bakura shook his head. He couldn't think anymore; his mind was burning, reminding him of what he needed. "This…this doesn't matter. I have to find the Ring."

He spun round, not wanting to know Marik's expression, and started to walk, fast and in the direction of the apartment. If he could get the Ring, things might be better…

A weight slammed hard across his back, and then he heard Marik's angry cry as he fell to the ground.

They rolled spectacularly into the dirt, each scrambling for the desperate upper hand. Bakura managed a couple of fierce kicks, but the burning within his mind was making it harder and harder to concentrate, and soon Marik was blurring in and out of focus.

He gasped as Marik's leg connected sharply with his torso, winding him and leaving him momentarily stunned. He felt Marik's hands grabbing his wrists and pushing them down into the ground, and then Marik's torso pressing heavily over his own. There was panting breath very close to his face.

A cool metal touched his neck, and Bakura opened his eyes to see Marik's shaking hand holding the knife against him. The tomb keeper's face was furious and upset all at once, his lip bleeding and his eyes vivid with a charged emotion.

"Is that all you can think of?" he screamed. "Even after you nearly kill me! What's so important! What's so important about that stupid Ring, and that stupid Realm? Why can't you tell me?"

"Marik…" Bakura struggled beneath him, but his strength was all out, and his body was becoming numb. His essence was beginning to fade away from it, he knew.

"_Answer me!" _Marik jolted him, the knife cutting a thin line on his throat.

Bakura didn't really feel it though. Instead he felt the tomb keeper's link opening up to him again, invading his own mind, and searching it frantically for answers.

It was a giddying sensation, combined with the spreading ache already within his head, pulling him back into it's waiting darkness. He couldn't stop it anymore; it was too late now.

He could have laughed at Marik's furious face. So much for trying to please a human. Bakura didn't think he'd ever get the hang of it.

"Marik, I need the Ring-" he tried to explain anyway.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't care about the items!" Marik's link broke apart like a crackling phone line, and then he cried; "_I…I just care about you_!"

He sounded so angry and desperate, but it was all Bakura needed to hear, as the familiar essence of dark Marik finally got a proper and inescapable hold of him. He blinked through the darkness that was cutting off his vision, and grasped Marik's knife-wielding hand for a moment, revelling in it's warmth and keeping Marik's words locked within his memory.

Then he slipped away from his conscious body, and fell into his Soul Room, ready for dark Marik's next attack.

88

"You're kidding, right?" Joey said, giving Yugi a sceptical look.

Yugi shook his head. He was sitting in the middle of a bewildered audience, like he'd just performed some impossible magic trick that everyone else was trying to figure out with no success at all.

Ryou was understanding things a bit better, and his hand twitched toward the Ring that sat cool and dormant in his pocket.

He hadn't been doing it too much, but occasionally he poked at his link with Bakura. He didn't feel so afraid anymore, and curiosity was naturally starting to take over. Besides, Bakura himself had said he was getting good at all this link stuff. It made Ryou feel more confident, and rather pleased for some reason.

Bakura didn't seem to notice their link much anyway. Ryou could feel the fluctuating emotions there, that mingled into his own mind, telling him that the Spirit was confused, or curious, and then maybe nervous. Ryou doubted he'd read that emotion correctly. Bakura didn't strike him as the nervous type.

"Let me get this straight," Joey said, eyes still on Yugi. "You're saying that the weirdo crazy version of Marik is still about, somewhere in the Shadow Realm. And then we got that weirdo crazy version of Ryou somehow stopping him from getting to us?"

"Actually, he just happened to share my body. I'm not a weirdo or a crazy, so far as I know." Ryou said.

"Aw, don't feel left out," said Duke. "I think you're a little bit weird if that's any consolation."

"Thanks," Ryou smiled weakly.

"Whatever," Joey waved his hand, "but is this true about crazy Marik? Cos I'm real confused here."

Yugi nodded; "It's some sort of shield, from what myself and the Pharaoh can gather. Basically Marik's dark half has to go through Bakura's link before he can reach Marik himself, and the rest of us." he looked around rather morbidly.

"But we're safe then, aren't we?" Tristan said, sounding a little worried all the same. "I mean, the Spirit's a cocky ass, but that's got to be in our favour now, right? If he's so confident he can defeat Marik's dark half-"

"Well, maybe he can," Yugi considered, and seemed uneasy. "We can't know. This Dark Marik seems really powerful. But…so long as Bakura has the Ring-"

"Oh _great_." Joey snorted, and rolled his eyes.

"I knew it was a bad idea," Tea folded her arms.

Yugi looked between them, confused; "What do you mean?"

"Well." Duke leaned back in his chair, smiling sarcastically in Tristan's direction; "that piece of information would have been entirely more comforting if Bakura still actually _had_ the Ring."

"You mean he doesn't?" Yugi looked alarmed.

Ryou pulled the item out of his pocket. "it's here."

At the same moment a flash of panic crossed Ryou's mind, so strong that it made him yelp and drop the Ring on the floor.

"Ryou, what's wrong?" Serenity asked with concern.

"Urgh. I don't know. Something weird just happened, in my head."

"See, I knew he was a tiny bit weird, at least." Duke said sagely.

"No...not in my head," Ryou realised. "it's my link, the link with Bakura…I think he's in some kind of trouble…"

"Guys, look at the Ring," Tea pointed at the item on the floor. It was glowing and it's points were wriggling about hectically.

Yugi scooped it up at once; "he _is_ in trouble." a brief light haloed the boy, and then the Pharaoh took possession of his body; his expression serious.

"I'll find him. The Ring will show me, just as it did before." Yami glanced at Ryou. "can you still feel his link?"

Ryou concentrated as hard as he could; it was a strange thing, trying to get through to a link he'd always done his best to block in the past. Now, when he really wanted it, he could find nothing at all.

"I…I can't feel anything anymore. It's like it disappeared." he swallowed. "Is that a good thing?"

Yami didn't sat anything. He held the Ring out, following it's points to the apartment door.

"I'm thinking not a good thing." Duke put in.

"Can't we help at all?" Tea asked.

"No. Not for the moment. It could be dangerous." Yami faced everyone. "Just stay put. I'll be back before too long."

"What happens?" Tristan asked. "What happens if he doesn't get the Ring in time?"

Yami walked out the door, his expression grim. "I guess we'll be expecting another visit from our old friend dark Marik."

88

Marik dropped the knife as Bakura's hand fell away from his own, lifeless and cold.

He sat and stared at the Spirit for what felt like a confusing age, waiting for him to open his eyes and sneer, tell him he was alright and he was just being nasty.

But Bakura's face was pained, and Marik had never seen that before, just like he'd never thought Bakura could feel things like that.

"This isn't funny! Now _wake up_!" he shook the Spirit roughly; "you think it's funny? _Cos it's not!"_

He didn't notice Yami reach him, and didn't have time to resist as he was pulled back, away from Bakura. He watched, somewhat stunned, as Yami knelt down and pulled the Millennium Ring from his pocket.

"No!" Marik flew at him, and the Ring went spinning across the ground.

"Marik!" Yami yelled; "You don't understand!"

"Not you too! Stop saying that!" Marik screamed. "He's not going back to the Realm! I won't let him!"

He wasn't sure what he planned to do as he ran at Yami, more upset than anything else.

"_Listen!" _Yami shoved him back with surprising force, and Marik fell to the ground, feeling like he'd been winded.

Yami hurried to pick up the Ring, placing it round Bakura's neck and hoisting him up a bit. The item glowed a little brighter but nothing else seemed to happen.

"_Come on, _Bakura_."_

Marik stared. He had never seen Yami so determined before, and it was confusing. "What are you doing?"

"He needs to wake up," Yami spoke with a growing urgency. "Bakura! You've got the Ring. Now use it!" he shook the Spirit again, and Marik found he couldn't stand it anymore. He snatched Yami's wrist;

"What are you talking about? He's trying to get back to the Realm! He's trying to get the Rod back-"

"-He's _trying_ to protect you!"

Yami's words hung in the air, as though they wanted to stay there forever. Then Marik released Yami's wrist, like he'd been stung.

"What?" he shuffled backwards. "what are you saying?"

"He's trying to protect you, from your dark half," Yami repeated, more gently. "that's why he needs the Ring."

Marik quivered and shook his head. He suddenly felt strange and cold, like maybe none of this was real. Yami's words seemed reluctant to make any sense at all.

"No," he said. "that wouldn't…why would he-"

"He needs to Ring to keep your dark half at bay," Yami explained. "somehow…he's stopping Dark Marik's attack with it."

Marik stared blankly. "but why-"

He was interrupted by Bakura's heaving breath, and then the Spirit jerked into life, coughing and gasping like he'd just emerged from water.

"Bakura!-" Marik started to grab him, but the Spirit knocked the hand away, looking very agitated;

"I'm alright," he said, tipping his head at the Ring. Then he started to get up, staggering a bit.

"Are you sure?" Yami said anxiously.

"_Fine._"

"Bakura-" Marik said.

"I'm _alright_!"

The Spirit's fists found Marik's stomach and punched him down without any warning. Marik choked and cowered as Bakura prepared for another strike, but Yami flew at him, tackling the Spirit to the ground.

"Stop it, you idiot!" Yami yelled, barely managing to pin him. "it's over now, so stop it!"

Bakura struggled and growled like some wild animal, and a few times he almost flung Yami off him. Eventually his strength ebbed away though, and he slackened beneath Yami, glaring like he might kill, and taking fast, ragged breaths.

"Get off me." he said dangerously.

Yami didn't move for a few long seconds, the suspicion clear on his face.

"Have you calmed down?" he asked.

Bakura cracked a sardonic and hateful grin; "Just let me _alone_."

Yami looked uncertain, but he slowly removed himself from the Spirit.

Bakura got up with some effort, his limbs were shaking and his face was white and illuminated by the arcade's distantly flickering lights. He started to walk away, though he was unsteady and wavering, like some blind puppet.

Marik stared after him. He'd never felt so helpless and guilty. "Bakura, please…"

Yami's hand rested across his chest, telling him to stay put. Marik didn't want to, he wanted to make sure Bakura was alright, but his legs felt weak and his mind was dazed with such sudden revelations.

Bakura walked a few more uneven steps, and then stopped. Another figure stepped out of the dark and in front of him, his face neutral. It was Tristan.

"I thought I should come by," he said.

Bakura smiled at him in a sick sort of way.

"Just in time," he murmured, then promptly collapsed against him.

"How did you..?" Yami said.

"I just followed you." Tristan adjusted the Spirit's weight carefully onto his back. "…I guess it's the least I could do."

Yami seemed to understand; "Thanks, Tristan," he moved an arm round Marik; "Are you okay?"

It was a stupid question, so Marik thought. But he nodded anyway, and leaned heavily against Yami. His vision was blurred, then he realised he was crying.

"I told him not to use the Ring. I tried to stop him."

"It's okay." Yami said, and looked kind and like he understood. "it doesn't matter now."

Maybe it didn't matter, but it was all Marik could think about, as they sloped back to the apartment. The arcade music was dying into the background, and he could only stare at the pavement.

88

His neck still stung with Bakura's hands, and his stomach still ached with Bakura's fist, but it didn't stop Marik from feeling sick and terrible when he looked over at the Spirit. He had been still and asleep in the bedroom since they'd gotten back to the apartment.

Now it was just past two in the morning, and still Marik couldn't stop watching him.

"You want some more?"

Ryou held his infamous chocolate cake out to Marik, his face kind and inviting as ever, even if he did look like he badly wanted some sleep.

Ryou was nice and sweet enough to stay up and talk quietly about how everything would be okay, and how it wasn't really Marik's fault at all. Marik didn't believe it, but it was still nice to hear.

"I'm okay." he declined the cake, keeping his eyes set on Bakura.

Nobody had asked many questions when they'd got back-it seemed like everybody else already knew what had happened. It just make Marik feel worse.

"You're not psychic." Ryou said, like he'd read his mind. "you didn't know what he was doing."

"I _could_ have known. I just never bothered." Marik rubbed his head. "I have this stupid link, and I didn't even bother with it. Not till it was too late, anyway."

"Well he never told you what he was doing, so he couldn't have wanted you to know." Ryou pointed out.

Marik sank down into his sleeping bag. "But why couldn't he just tell me?"

Ryou shrugged; "No idea. I don't know how five thousand year old Spirit minds work, to be honest. And I don't think you should be expected to know, either." he said. "You shouldn't worry so much, Marik. I don't think he wants you to."

Marik blinked at Ryou, remembering the boy's obvious fear of Bakura, before any of this. "Do you really think that? Do you really think he's not so bad?"

"Maybe." Ryou seemed to consider. "What do I know? Marik, you know the Spirit better than me. Better than anyone."

"Do I?" Marik wasn't sure about that. He hadn't known Bakura wanted to help him, after all. He had been the last to know that.

"It's obvious isn't it?" Ryou rolled his eyes. Marik waited for him to elaborate, but Ryou just yawned and turned onto his back; "Night," he said.

Marik tossed onto his side, so that he was facing Bakura again. "Night." he mumbled.

He closed his eyes, with Bakura's sleeping form occupying his mind, and eventually fell into a very light sleep.

8

When he awoke a little while later he found Bakura was not there anymore.

He crawled out of his sleeping bag at once, his stomach clenching, and almost fell through the doorway into the lounge.

Bakura was curled on the couch, and Marik could see his blinking reflection in the muted television set.

"What's wrong with the bedroom?" Marik asked, and walked slowly over. He sat on the floor, near to Bakura.

"Does it matter where I sleep?" Bakura said, not looking at him.

"I guess not."

Marik had thought it might be easier. When Bakura was awake they could talk, and perhaps everything that had happened wouldn't seem so terrible anymore. That was rubbish of course; when he looked at Bakura he wanted to cry.

"You idiot," he heard himself say.

"Hm?" Bakura gave him an odd look.

"Why'd you do that?" Marik found the Spirit's hand, and gripped it tighter than he knew he should. "Why didn't you tell me? About why you needed the Ring?"

Bakura stared at the whitening hand on his own. "It hardly mattered."

"Mattered?" Marik raised his voice a bit. "of course it _mattered! _What else could matter so much?"

Bakura gave him another odd look, like Marik might be rather slow; "You were angry."

"I was…what?"

Bakura shrugged, like it was nothing; "I thought you might be happier if I did as you told me. For once," he smirked a bit.

Marik's mind raced with the realisation; "that's why you took the Ring off? So I wouldn't be angry anymore?"

"Well. Yes." Bakura nodded.

"You're an even bigger idiot then."

Bakura didn't seem to take offence; "I think I prefer when you're not like that." "When I'm not angry?"

"I think so." Bakura looked amazingly pleased with himself. "It worked out okay, for the most part," he tapped the Ring. "I got this back in one piece, anyway."

Marik stared at him; "Explain how it _worked out okay,_ please? I think I missed that part amongst all the fighting and fainting and knives."

"Well," Bakura rolled his eyes to the ceiling, as though trying to work out a difficult equation; "I think you were happy…or something similar at least, if I remember correctly. Yes…in the arcade. Isn't that what you humans like to be?"

"…_humans_?" Marik wanted to be incredulous; to remind Bakura how stupid and insane he was, but then he remembered Bakura in the arcade, only a few hours ago.

Coloured lights glowing all around them, shadows moving past the Spirit's pale face, making Marik want to lean in. And for a few seconds he had felt something overwhelming, as Bakura's face had begun to blur, close to his own…

"_Were _you happy?" Bakura asked.

Marik blinked, all the memories falling away and bringing him back to the expectant present and Bakura's rather impatient face.

"I…yeah." Marik almost laughed, but found himself wanting to cry instead. He couldn't help it. "Well, mostly now I am," he wiped his eyes, they felt wet. "Cos you're all okay and everything."

Bakura frowned; "are you sure? You don't look especially happy."

Marik laughed unsteadily; "I'm sure."

"What's wrong?" Bakura looked very confused.

"Nothing," Marik shook his head, and rubbed his eyes again. "it's nothing."

He leaned forwards without a thought.

It was awkward in the dark, putting his arms round Bakura, pulling him into a clumsy but tight hug. Bakura felt cold, and he didn't move at all, his hands staying stiff at his sides.

But Marik closed his eyes anyway, and felt Bakura's soft exhalation against his shoulder, the jut of torso that pressed on his own, even though it didn't have to.

"Sorry," he murmured, near to Bakura's ear; "It was either this or a punch. I couldn't decide which."

"This is okay." Bakura said, and Marik felt him swallow. "it's…warm like this."

"Yeah?" Marik gripped him a bit tighter. "better than a punch, then?"

"Of course."

Marik sighed into the Spirit's neck, even though it was so unnaturally cold, it was Bakura so it hardly mattered. And he didn't want to let go just yet. He liked the movement of the chest close to his own, and the idea that his own warmth somehow reached the Spirit.

Marik opened his eyes in small surprise when a weight rested light on his back, barely there, but enough for him to know what it was.

The Spirit's fingers drew across his shoulder blades in an impossibly careful way. It was soothing and yet very slight. Strange that hands which had hurt him so much only hours ago could feel so gentle now. Marik hardly dared breath, for fear that it would end too soon.

He felt Bakura's breathing; uneven and short against him. He realised the Spirit was shaking just a bit.

"Bakura? Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," Bakura said faintly.

Marik didn't really believe him.

"I don't want you to get hurt," he said into the Spirit's shoulder. "I don't want you to protect me like that."

"I want to," Bakura's hands tightened for a tiny moment around Marik's back.

At the same time, a rush of warmth reached Marik's head, flickering all about like a dizzying flame for a few seconds. The sensation made him gasp, and he felt Bakura shiver.

"I found your link again," the Spirit said. He sounded relieved.

Marik felt the relief too; their link was comforting and safe, and it made him wonder how he'd done without it.

"Sorry," he pulled away from Bakura with some regret.

The Spirit moved his hands awkwardly to the sides, and gave Marik a curious look; "Sorry for what?"

"I should never have closed my link. It was my fault."

Bakura didn't seem to hear the words, his attention was fixed on Marik's neck. "I hurt you." he said tonelessly.

"It was my fault," Marik repeated. He didn't want to think about it.

"It seems like it should be my fault." Bakura said, looking confused.

"It's not," Marik shook his head.

He was starting to understand, as he watched how the Spirit's eyes widen, and the way they searched Marik's own, as though trying to guess the emotion that might be there. Then how he seemed to smile as he understood it himself. Or at least that was what Marik gathered through their lulling, calm link.

"I liked that," Bakura was looking at Marik's loose arms, "it was warm."

"Oh?" Marik recalled the tentative hands on his back. He noticed the way Bakura still stared at his arms with some strange sort of fascination. "You really were trying to help me, weren't you?" Marik realised.

"What?"

"Back in your Soul Room, when I first came to see you. You sensed my dark half. And…you thought it might help me, didn't you?"

Bakura shrugged. "I thought that was what you wanted."

"Maybe I did want it," the thought made Marik feel sick. "For a while I must have done. I mean…it's a part of _me. _How else could I have created such a terrible thing in my own mind?"

"Whether you wanted it or not, it hardly matters anymore," Bakura said indifferently. "It's here now."

"I know that," Marik frowned, but knew he was foolish to expect that sort of reassurance from the Spirit. Even if he might do stupid things like make shields and risk himself.

He would still defy human expectation at every turn. Marik knew it now.

"Thank you for trying to help me," he said.

Bakura blinked back up at him, scowling a bit. "I don't want your gratitude."

"Then what do you want?"

"I trust you." Bakura spoke slowly, and looked unsure. "Aren't you supposed to do the same?"

"Of course." Marik nodded. "I do trust you, Bakura." he didn't need to think about it. "Look, I'll prove I do."

He pulled his top off in one smooth motion.

"What are you-" Bakura looked mortified.

"See," Marik turned away from him quickly, revealing his bare back.

"Oh." Bakura said with realisation.

"These are the three God cards. The er...the things I told Yugi about before. They're supposed to help us somehow."

Bakura shifted on the couch. Then Marik felt cool fingers rest on his back for a few seconds, tracing the familiar lines of his markings. He couldn't help but flinch against the touch, and Bakura seemed to see it. He retracted his hand quickly.

"I'm sorry." he muttered.

"No, it's fine," Marik turned round, to see Bakura was looking away. Feeling a bit strange, Marik quickly put his top back on, and cleared his throat. "Erm, so there you are. No more secrets. From me, anyway."

Bakura turned back, though it seemed pointless since his eyes stayed set on his own hands.

"You need all three God cards together then?" he said.

Marik nodded; "Yes. Well, the Pharaoh does, in order to unlock his mind. Along with the rest of the items, of course."

"The cards might be the easier option for the moment," Bakura said thoughtfully. "Doesn't our old friend Seto Kaiba possess the last one?"

"That's right. I think Yami plans to duel him for it."

"Of course," Bakura rolled his eyes, "The dear perfect Pharaoh doesn't seem capable of losing, does he?"

Marik smirked; "You might cut him a break for once."

Bakura raised his brows, but was smirking a bit too; "you expect far too much of me."

"Not really." Marik said.

All he really wanted was for things to be okay.

He watched Bakura lean back on the couch and close his eyes. He was tired, it wasn't hard to see, and little wonder why. Marik wanted to stay with him, and tell him he really was grateful.

Instead he settled for sitting on the nearby chair, and liking the way the link stayed open, and told him Bakura could trust him. That was okay enough.

888

Notes: Sorry this chapter was so loooong. I think this could have done with being broken in half, but I really wanted to mention the God cards here. Need to get some semblance of plot amongst all this angst/drama.

Thank you so much for all your reviews. I appreciate them always.


	11. A Spreading Corruption

First: thanks for all the reviews so far. I appreciate them so much. And Seabird, I'm very happy you and your friend are enjoying this. I can't promise a non-redemptive plotline, but redemption is certainly not the main theme. Hope that's some consolation.

Sorry this is late. I was taking an hiatus anyway but then I had some unexpected family grievances, so yeah that killed my urge to write for a while. I owe you guys a chapter for Christmas at least.

**Chapter 11**

**A Spreading Corruption**

Yugi was awoken by two angry cries and the slamming of a door, from somewhere outside the bedroom.

"Who's that maniac demon trying to kill this time?" Joey muttered into his pillow.

Yugi staggered out of bed, dreading the same thing. His link with Yami flashed into life, and Yugi looked down at the Puzzle.

"Be careful, Pharaoh," he said, before handing over control of his body.

Yami went into the lounge and found Bakura stood just outside the bathroom door. Not thinking on it, Yami grabbed him by the wrist;

"What did you do?"

Bakura blinked at him, alarmingly bemused. "Nothing."

"Leave him alone," Marik sided up to the Spirit, fixing Yami a harsh stare. "He hasn't done anything."

Yami realised he hadn't, or at least so far as he knew. He released Bakura and looked round the room.

Tristan and Duke were stood in the middle of the lounge, nursing their jaws and glaring at each other. Serenity stood between them, looking very upset.

"What happened?" Tea walked in, rubbing her eyes. "I heard yelling…oh, what's wrong?" she went to Serenity, and gave both Tristan and Duke dark looks. "What have you boys done now?"

"No, it's my fault," Serenity said quickly. "I…shouldn't have done that, it was stupid."

"Was it?" Tristan glared at her. His face was red.

"I didn't want to upset anybody!"

"Did I miss something?" Joey hung in the doorway, watching as his sister brushed past him, her head bowed. "Just tell me it's nothing to do with mind controlling demons and I'm totally okay with it."

Tea scowled; "try to be a little more sensitive?" she trailed into the bedroom, after Serenity.

"What did I say?" Joey perched on the edge of the couch and gave Bakura a cagey look; "Have you been summoning the depths of Hell or something crazy like that again?"

Bakura raised a brow; "I don't recall ever doing that."

"It's nothing to do with him," Tristan said icily. If looks could kill it seemed like Duke should have been dead in that moment. "All I know is I can't spend another day in this house with him."

"The feeling's mutual." Duke curled his lip.

Yami rolled his eyes. It was probably a good thing that stuff involving mind controlling demons were not happening. Even so, complicated love triangles seemed the rawer deal right now.

Luckily, he had a plan.

"We won't be spending too much longer in this apartment, anyway," he said. It seemed the right sort of time to announce it, and he felt Yugi's agreeable link within the Puzzle.

"Eh?" said Joey.

"We're going to Egypt."

Nobody said anything for a long moment, and it was all quiet, except for a munching sound coming from in the direction of the boxy kitchen area. Bakura was there, putting messy handfuls of dry cereal in his mouth. He didn't look very surprised by the news.

"What?" Serenity and Tea peered out the bedroom door in some bewilderment. "Egypt?" Tea repeated. "That's very…random."

"I can't really afford that," Ryou wandered into the lounge, sleepy yet intrigued. "Unless I suddenly inherit a lot of money from my nonexistent rich dying uncle, of course." He made a beeline for the toaster and gave Bakura a careful smile. Bakura still seemed much more interested in scoffing cereal though.

"Well, Yugi's grandpa is willing to help us out there," Yami said.

"Great, and I can work on my tan," Duke declared, "this is gonna be _sweet_."

"Well, not just yet." Yami glanced at Bakura, hoping he was being subtle about it. The Spirit looked anything but engaged in the conversation; busily snatching up toast which Ryou was offering at an impressive rate. He ate like there was no tomorrow and had not gotten any tidier about it either.

"First we need all three God cards," Yami continued, "and as many of the item's as we can get, for that matter."

"We all know who has the last God card," Joey snorted, leaning back in his chair. "Good luck with that one."

Yami sat back on the kitchen table, observing his audience for a second. "I'm duelling Kaiba today."

Everyone blinked at him like he'd sprouted a new head.

"Where do you think I went the other day when I left that note?" Yami said. "Kaiba has agreed to it. In a little less than an hour, to be exact."

"It's a trick." Joey decided. "It must be."

Tea sighed in his direction; "Stop being so paranoid."

"You're expecting Kaiba to just hand over his God Card? That'll never happen."

"If he loses the duel he'll have no choice," said Serenity. "He has to abide by the rules."

"Poor naive little sis," Joey patted her pitifully on the head. "One day you'll learn."

"Learn what?"

"What an incredible douche Kaiba is."

"Well we need that God Card, so lets just hope Kaiba cooperates." Yami was unable to hide his apprehension. Duke seemed to pick up on it;

"What's the big rush? Are we still in some sort of danger?" he asked like it was all very tiresome. "I thought we were safe, so long as Bakura has the Ring?"

Bakura looked up from his savage breakfast munching, and wiped the crumbs from his mouth. He gave Yami a look which didn't reveal anything, but seemed to have been saved just for him anyway.

Nobody had acknowledged that Bakura was helping them yet. Or at least he seemed to be. It was an uneasy sort of fact, and when Yami looked at Bakura now he could easily understand why nobody wanted to trust him.

The Spirit grinned, mouth full of sharp teeth. It was impressive how he managed to look dangerous with a box of colourful breakfast hoops wedged under his arm.

"Yes, I have this," he lifted the Ring and tapped it. It looked dull and loose round his neck, similar to the Puzzle's current state around Yami.

Yami could not detect a connection between them anymore. Not like before, when he had somehow found the Spirit's link, and they had caught a tiny piece of each other. A memory, a feeling, whatever it was, it had been _something_.

Yami was beginning to think that maybe the other night had been a one off. A lucky, or unlucky-depending on how he looked at it, encounter with the Spirit's essence.

He wasn't sure why he should feel disappointed he couldn't find it now.

"Are you having second thoughts, Pharaoh?" Bakura asked, a spiteful flash in his eyes.

"About what?"

"Your duel with Kaiba, of course."

Yami glared at him. "Of course not."

"There's the confident Pharaoh I'm familiar with," Bakura said poisonously, preventing it from being anything close to a compliment. Not that Yami would have ever expected such miracles.

"Shut your trap," Tristan said guardedly.

Bakura beamed, which was out of place on his face, and snatched some more toast off Ryou's plate.

"Erm, excuse me if this is a stupid question," Ryou asked tentatively, not seeming too worried about his disappearing breakfast, "but just what are we going to do in Egypt with all the items and God cards?"

"Yugi and I went to see Grandpa the other day," Yami looked briefly at his Puzzle, acknowledging his host; "he told us some interesting things."

"What about?" asked Duke.

"Well," Yami hesitated. "I don't really understand it myself just yet. Only that the items belong somewhere in Egypt."

Duke raised a brow. "This certainly inspires lots of confidence in me," he turned away. "Oh well, at least my tan is for certain."

"What are we waiting for, then?" Joey said. "let's go kick some Kaiba butt." He tugged Serenity up with him, who still looked a little upset about whatever had happened earlier.

As it happened, most people wanted to watch the anticipated duel between Yami and Kaiba, although Bakura surprised most everyone by refusing to budge from the couch.

"I don't like you lot. I'm not joining your little cheerleading squad," he said, and flicked on the television set.

"You've turned him into a telly addict." Marik said to Duke, in a matter-of-fact way.

Yami watched, feeling intrigued and a bit wary, as Marik bent closer to Bakura. His hand was brief on the Spirit's, but Yami noticed it. He noticed how Marik spoke softer than he needed to, and how the Spirit flinched a little but gave him a tolerating look.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to the hospital." the tomb keeper said. "You don't have to come. I know you hate it."

Bakura opened his mouth, as though he might protest, then he just nodded instead. "Alright." Conflict looked strange on his face.

"Hey," Duke said, "Tell me what happens in that soap at two, right?"

Bakura glared daggers at him.

Duke grinned; "Or I could just catch a repeat. Yeah, I'll just do that."

"Good idea."

"If he's going then I'm staying." Tristan said from the kitchen, eyes hard on Duke.

"That works," Duke agreed. "I kinda like the idea of you being sent to that Shadowy Realm place." he looked expectantly at Bakura, whose gaze was much more intent on the blank television set.

"He won't do that," Marik said.

Bakura gave Tristan a listless look; "but I can make exceptions."

"I can deal with it," Tristan gritted his teeth.

"Are you trying to act tough?" Serenity looked aghast. "Because that's a stupid way of going about it!"

"I wouldn't bother anymore," Tristan growled. "and you're way off, anyway. I can handle this Spirit thing. He's weak without the Ring."

Bakura stood up, taking everyone off guard as he sprung toward Tristan with a swinging arm. Marik was the only one alert or apparently knowing enough to stop it, twisting Bakura's wrist back and holding it there.

"_Don't. _It's not helping anything!" he almost pleaded. The two locked gazes for a moment, then Bakura slowly lowered his arm, though his face was still furious.

"I'm not weak." he said, like a hiss. He glared past Marik at Tristan. "I'm _not_ weak."

"I know," Marik let go of him, his expression flickering anxiety and waiting for Bakura's next move. Everyone else was too, between moving back or tensing forwards. Yami was tensed, keeping his eyes on the Ring. He was waiting for the pull of the Realm, if it would even happen.

But Bakura just moved back, his face darkening and nothing else. His eyes locked on Marik's, and Yami could almost sense the mutuality between them. Of course it made sense, things were different between those two, especially now.

Yami could not forget that Bakura had wanted to protect Marik. Through that he was helping all of them, whether he had planned it that way or not. That didn't matter anymore, it was just how it was.

It was barely a comforting thought though; Bakura looked like he might rip Tristan's head off.

Joey stared at Tristan; "And you want to stay here? Your funeral, man."

Yami sort of agreed with him.

"Are you sure you won't come with us?" he tried to reason with the Spirit anyway.

Bakura shook his head. "Don't you trust me alone?"

"Of course I don't."

Bakura glanced at the Puzzle with interest, as he always did, then back at Yami again.

"Good luck, then."

"With what?"

"Your duel with Seto Kaiba." the Spirit considered, "I bet your Puzzle you win."

"Thanks," Yami wasn't sure whether to be flattered or not. Bakura wasn't the flattering sort. "But no bets." he briefly touched the Puzzle and then felt Yugi's link round his neck. It was encouraging to feel his host there.

"I'll go with you to the hospital," Ryou said to Marik.

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure," Ryou nodded. "I've always wanted to go hang out with sick people."

Marik grinned at him. "_you're_ sick. You'll be right at home there."

The two didn't dwindle in the apartment, but Marik stayed long enough to say something quiet to Bakura that nobody else could have heard. The Spirit's mouth just slid into a thin line, giving nothing away.

When Marik and Ryou were gone, Bakura stiffened on the couch and looked all around at Yugi's friends, like he was their reluctant captive.

"Are you going to make me join you anyway?" he said hatefully.

Yami shook his head. Despite himself, he felt sympathetic. He moved to sit on the couch, and Bakura looked suspicious.

"What? I don't want to talk to you."

Yami ignored him, and put a hand on the Ring. He wasn't quite sure what compelled him to do it, only that he needed to, to calm some worried part of himself. Bakura's eyes widened and then he lurched back, covering the Ring up. But nothing could hide how easily it glowed, like it had been switched on by Yami's touch.

For some reason Yami was not so surprised about that, nor was he surprised by the way his Puzzle had started heating up against his chest too. He lifted it thoughtfully, remembering Bakura's mind, and knowing their link existed.

"What game are you playing?" Bakura stood up, and looked angry. "if you mean to take my item from me, you already know what might happen if I don't have it-"

"That's not the intention at all," Yami interrupted. "it's the last thing I would do."

"Good," Duke muttered. "cos I don't want to see that weird tongue guy any time soon."

Bakura moved into the kitchen area, brushing deliberately past Tristan as he did. Yami could feel the crackles of angry energy there, and he knew that some part of the Spirit's essence still lingered with him, even if it didn't want to.

"I hate you." Bakura said quietly, his back to all of them.

Yami stared at him, feeling oddly upset.

"Right back at ya," Joey sighed; "c'mon guys. Are we gonna beat some Kaiba butt or what?"

Yami got up, nodding to the door. As everyone began to file out, he turned a concerned look to Tristan.

"Awful bastard isn't he?" Tristan said.

Yami looked past Tristan's shoulder to see Bakura was eyeing the toaster with apparent interest. "Are you sure you're okay with this? In case he tries anything-"

"Hey, I was talking about Duke." Tristan said sourly. "But yeah, I can handle him. I might give him a good grilling too."

"Right," Yami smiled weakly.

Bakura tipped his head to them for a moment, his eyes narrowed. "Have fun, dear Pharaoh."

0000000000000000000

Even though he hated the hospital, Bakura still missed Marik being there, and wished he had gone with him.

He was also still hungry, and happened to miss Ryou too; in a practical sense. Ryou was handy and always provided him with food, even if it was burnt and often tasted like it was trying to damage his insides.

He stared at the toaster, trying to recall what Ryou did, or anybody else for that matter. It should have been easy. How many times had he spent within that Ring in the early morning, listlessly watching his old host go about his morning routine? Too many times, so it was quite shameful he couldn't remember anything now.

Uncertainly he inserted some bread, then looked at the buttons, half hoping one might flash and tell him to pick it. It didn't seem to want to work like that, though.

"I suppose you're going to gloat then." Tristan said, moody and expectant, from somewhere in the lounge. Bakura wasn't particularly interested.

"What would I gloat about?" he tried the first button and was disappointed when the bread decided not to do anything.

"You know what," Tristan snapped. He sounded a little nearer. "You saw this morning. You were the first to see it."

"Oh, that." Bakura pressed the second button, and remembered Duke and Serenity sitting on the bathroom floor, with their faces tilted and too close together. "Don't flatter yourself."

"What?"

"Do you really think I have the slightest interest in your pathetic little problems?" Bakura asked.

Tristan snorted, but said nothing else.

Bakura pressed the next button on the toaster, which was more of a lever. He watched the bread move downward with a small and perhaps ridiculously misplaced sense of pride.

He had lied a bit to Tristan, though. He _was_ interested, to some degree.

He was interested in the way the two humans on the bathroom floor seemed to join up like that, and move together so naturally. How their lips touched and seemed to move in a rhythmic sync, and then how their eyes closed like nothing else existed.

A human kiss; he knew of it well enough. It was quite hard to avoid seeing in this world, and how important it was supposed to be. Although he could never understand it's purpose before.

Now he thought of closing his eyes and being close to a human, not wanting anyone else to be there. It was difficult; his mind didn't seem to like conjuring such ideas, and when it did they were all fragmented and didn't make much sense at all. It was like a slideshow flashing images far too fast for him to take in properly. It made him feel a little nauseous, trying to find emotions he didn't know existed.

He found some though, and remembered Marik, and the human's hand on his face. That had been a strange emotion, being pulled from him if only for a few seconds. It had happened in the arcade too.

Marik was probably good at kissing.

"You know, it works better when you do this," Tristan dangled the toaster plug and then fitted it into the socket.

Bakura blinked at it. "I see," he commented. "How interesting."

"Yes, a miracle." Tristan said flatly. "What will us lowly mortals think up next, I wonder?"

Bakura turned to see Tristan had stepped back; but his arms were folded and he looked hostile. Bakura was not intimidated by Tristan; in fact most of the time he wanted to maim the stupid human. Still, Bakura would give him credit for being gutsy.

"Lowly mortals?" he leaned against the kitchen unit, grinning a bit. "Well, you said it." there was no harm in humouring humans.

Tristan frowned; "I remember what you did to those guards, back at Pegasus's castle. And I remember what you tried to do to Mokuba."

"Well done." Bakura nodded. "I'm glad you have a memory. Some of us aren't so fortunate."

"I could still tell the others," Tristan said tightly. "I could tell them what you planned to do with Mokuba."

"You can tell them whatever you like," Bakura was not bothered. "Do you really think it would make any difference? I already know your friends do not trust me. I would be foolish to believe otherwise. So would you. In fact," Bakura leaned forwards, smiling a bit; "I'm rather surprised you haven't already told them about the little Mokuba incident."

"It's not something I like to think about," Tristan snapped. "See, that's what separates you from me, and everyone else."

Bakura moved back against the kitchen counter again, frowning.

"You can act like it was nothing. " Tristan explained. "Just another little cock-up in your grand scheme. You don't have any reason to care. Humans don't work like that, you know."

"How wonderful." Bakura folded his arms.

He had expected flying fists, but never a lecture from Tristan Taylor, of all people. It was almost like the human was trying to reason with him on some weird level.

"What would you like, then? A pointless apology?"

Tristan laughed sarcastically; "A bit late for that."

"Hence it being pointless."

"Smart ass." Tristan said; "And you're going to burn the apartment down."

Bakura followed Tristan's gaze to the toaster, and saw the thick smoke pluming out of it. The toast itself was peeking out, blacker than anything Ryou had ever made.

Bakura moved to take it out.

"Don't do that!" Tristan knocked his hand away. "Damn, for a potentially psychotic demon, you're pretty stupid." he unplugged the toaster.

"So psychotic demon equates to intelligence?" Bakura considered. "Why would you think such a thing?"

"I have no idea," Tristan muttered. "and intelligent is too generous a word. I just expected you to be a bit more toaster savvy."

"I've never needed to get my own food before." Bakura argued half-heartedly, watching as Tristan pushed the toaster to him.

"There. Now go nuts. Burn yourself if you like. I'll just stand here and laugh."

Bakura plucked the toast out and proceeded to crunch on it. It tasted nasty, and made his eyes water.

True to his idiot word, Tristan laughed. "You really are stupid. I kind of wonder why we should be scared of you."

Bakura spluttered out the rest of the toast and then attempted to gather what was left of his composure. He could feel the Ring's gentle heat against his chest, coaxing him into mischief.

He remembered Marik's disappointed face though, and it stopped him. It'd be a stupid move anyway. Opening up the Realm would probably lead to Marik's dark half, and Bakura wasn't up to facing that just yet.

He crunched on the rest of his horrible toast with a bitter grimace.

"You're still eating it. You really are psychotic." Tristan commented.

Bakura eyed the human. So he couldn't send him to the Realm, but that didn't mean he was out of options.

"I wonder," he said thoughtfully, as he swallowed down another lump of charcoal, "What your friends Duke and Serenity are up to right now?"

Tristan's reaction was instantaneous; his face flushing bright red and his hands curling into large fists.

Bakura grinned widely; how easy it was to find and exploit human weakness. It was fascinating too, how people could get so worked up over small things. Things like kisses. These sorts of things were important to humans, Bakura would try to remember that.

"I don't give a damn what they're up to," Tristan said between his teeth.

Bakura swallowed down some more toast, and almost choked. Tristan gave him an alarmed look;

"What's your problem, anyway? You haven't stopped eating since you woke up." he slapped Bakura on the back.

Bakura steadied himself against the kitchen unit, but found it wasn't enough; some familiar dizziness had come over him. These headaches were getting quite vicious now, and he couldn't ignore them so much as he'd like. He walked to the kitchen table and sat down.

"Are you okay?" Tristan sounded level and not exactly concerned. Bakura was glad of it.

"I'm not weak," he said with determination, and rested his head in his hands. "I just need to sit for a bit."

"I wasn't going to say-"

"-I have to be stronger though," Bakura interrupted. "For next time."

"Next time?" Tristan repeated, and sounded softer. Bakura wasn't sure. He did feel awfully dizzy though, and it was humiliating more than anything else, how he couldn't even lift his head from his hands to offer the human stood near him a practised glare.

He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the hand on his arm.

"Don't touch me," he murmured. "I'm warning you."

The hand moved away and Bakura waited for the dizzy spell to pass. When he looked up again he saw Tristan had turned away, his focus set on the toaster.

"I take it Ryou didn't show you how to work this thing, then?"

"No."

"Right." Tristan seemed to be aware of Bakura's bemused face, and he looked at the Spirit out of the corner of his eye. "Listen, I still hate you, but I know what you've done. I know you're helping us somehow. So I'm making you toast, okay?" he spoke very fast, like he was being forced by some unknown person to explain himself.

"Okay," Bakura nodded, not helping his amusement. "Suppose I'm in your debt, then."

"Just don't mention another thing about Serenity and Duke and we'll call it even." Tristan placed a plate of much more appealing coloured toast on the table.

"Sounds fair." Bakura snatched up the toast; it tasted a lot more appealing too. "Thank you."

Tristan's face flashed brief but pleasant surprise; "You're welcome, I guess."

0000000000000000

"My brother's awake! He'll be out of the hospital in a few days!" Marik beamed as he sat on the couch, his arms curling round Bakura in a hug that would have meant severe death for anyone else in his position.

As it was, Bakura just pressed him away rather sheepishly, a smirk on his lips. He looked past Marik to Yugi.

"And looks like you owe me a Puzzle too," he said, his eyes gleaming on the item.

"If I remember, the Pharaoh said no bets," Ryou said helpfully, and offered a scowling Bakura a piece of celebratory cake.

"Shut up," Bakura said, taking the cake.

"Oh man," Joey said from the kitchen, where he and Tea were making drinks. "you should have seen it. Kaiba swore like a million times over. It was pretty hilarious."

"You would say that." Serenity rolled her eyes. "since you hate him."

"It's always nice seeing a jerk get taken down a peg or two, don't you think, Yug?"

Yugi couldn't help but grin; he had been for much of the afternoon.

As soon as Kaiba had given him the last God card it had felt like a weight had been lifted. A small one, but nonetheless the worry wasn't there anymore.

The duel had been hard of course, but that was what had made the victory more meaningful. Kaiba hadn't taken it great, but Yugi hoped he would get over it sooner rather than later. He glanced at the phone hanging up on the dingy wall. He'd need to talk to Kaiba again quite soon…

"Careful, don't rip them." Marik batted at Duke's hand, who was inspecting all three God Cards with some awe.

"I'm not, I'm super careful." Duke insisted.

"Yeah, right." Marik said, but laughed anyway. He had arrived back at the apartment not too long after Yugi and his friends, Ryou linked in his arm and balancing all sorts of sweet foods and declaring celebrations.

The mood had brightened between everyone. Even Duke and Tristan could bear to pass a drink to each other without resorting to attempted murder, whilst Serenity offered them both sweet and nervous smiles.

From within the Puzzle Yugi could feel the Pharaoh's tension disappearing somewhat too. Ever since the complications with Bakura and dark Marik, the Pharaoh had been on edge, and little wonder. Now though, there was a sense of relief between their link, and some progress too. They were a little closer to unlocking the Pharaoh's mind after all.

The only thing that still distracted him, which Yugi could easily sense, was the creature curled up on the couch. Bakura looked like he might be falling asleep.

"Isn't it great?" Marik pushed more cake into the Spirit's hand. He sat nearer than he needed to, brushing arm against arm.

Bakura yawned and stretched rather indulgently. He did look very tired. Even though his lazy stance wanted to look obnoxious, Yugi could already see the dark shadows under his eyes that gave him an odd purplish tint.

"I wanted to see Seto's face when he lost." the Spirit said. "You should have taken a photo."

Joey beamed; "for once I agree with the nutcase. I'd pin it up on my bedroom ceiling, so It's the first wonderful thing I wake up to in the morning."

"Waking up to Kaiba every day? I never knew you felt that way about him." Duke sniggered.

Joey turned red, and Tea chose the moment to interject;

"So…just the rest of the Millennium items to go, right?"

"Yes, then we're off to Egypt to get tans!" Duke said, taking a large swig on his drink. "and do mystical Egyptian secret stuff, of course." Serenity had a hand on his shoulder, giving him a disapproving glance.

"I still can't believe you guys are drinking." she said.

Duke shrugged; "the Pharaoh is perfectly above the drinking age. We have adult supervision."

"By about five thousand years," Joey grinned.

"I can't believe the _Pharaoh _would buy drinks for us." Tea said, but she was smiling coyly at the Puzzle, like she rather liked the idea. She was a bit tipsy.

"Hey, Pharaoh's party hard." Duke concluded.

Yugi smiled faintly. He wasn't drinking, and neither were Ryou or Serenity; the sensible ones. It had been Duke's idea to get wasted, and although Yugi wasn't prepared to go that far, he was willing to let his friends enjoy themselves a little.

It wasn't much fun being cooped up in a second rate apartment trying to figure out psychotic demon whereabouts, after all.

"Hey, we've got _two_ adults amongst us," Marik reminded, nudging Bakura. Bakura gave him a questioning look. "well, you went a whole afternoon without killing Tristan. I'm very proud," Marik explained.

"Yes," Bakura murmured. "I'm a big boy now. Being thousands of years old, and all that." he looked at Yugi and the Puzzle. "Am I in your good books now?" he asked sardonically.

Yugi glanced at Tristan, who just shrugged.

"It was like looking after a dog. I just gave him lots of toast and he seemed happy."

"Toast." Joey pondered. "I'll remember that, for the next time we run into crazy malevolent Spirits."

"Perhaps we should try it against Dark Marik," Duke suggested. "Might be his one weakness."

Serenity pulled a face. "I somehow doubt that."

Bakura helped himself to another drink; he'd been consuming alcohol at a steady rate and seemed to be keeping up a good pretence of sobriety despite it. Maybe he was just a drowsy drunk. Maybe demons didn't even get drunk…

"Well," the Spirit said conversationally. "Your Pharaoh might at least honour me with a little of his gratitude. I am the one keeping your enemy at bay, and tolerating every inane word which comes out of all your mouths."

"He's got a point," Tristan rolled his eyes at the bathroom, where Duke had just dashed off to throw up. "Lightweight."

Yugi considered Bakura, who looked far too sly sitting on the chair with his drink, even slouched down and weary looking.

Yugi was rather afraid of the Spirit, he could admit that to himself. The way Bakura licked his lips like every person in the room was a meal, and how his dark eyes didn't really reflect anything real in them.

It would have been easy to hand over control to the Pharaoh, like he was always offered the chance whenever something dangerous threatened. Within their link, the Pharaoh seemed ready for a confrontation and expected the switch.

"I guess you have been helping us," Yugi said aloud, swallowing down his apprehension. He looked at Bakura properly. "I can trust you for now."

Bakura's steady expression faltered, like he'd been insulted.

"_You_?" he tossed the word out with rich disdain, turning his head away. "Your word doesn't matter to me at all."

Marik nudged him. "Don't say things like that."

"It's nothing personal, Yugi," Bakura amended, and looked round at everyone else too. "It's just that none of you matter to me."

Yugi bit his lip. He wasn't especially surprised by Bakura's words, but he could feel the Pharaoh's surge of anger through the link. It would never change. Maybe Bakura just said these things to wind the Pharaoh up and make him appear, anyway.

"Isn't he charming?" Joey said brightly. "You'd think we were his mortal enemies, or something."

Marik slapped Bakura quite hard on the arm.

Bakura frowned at him, his face twitching; "what was that for?"

"Being a bastard. I hope you liked it."

Bakura sneered, but leaned back on the couch and shut his eyes. "Best feeling in the world," he muttered.

0000000

Nearly everybody fell asleep in the lounge, except for Ryou who complained about Joey's snoring, and Serenity who had helped a sick and blushing Tea to bed and decided to stay with her the rest of the night. She'd been muttering something about Pharaoh's and crushes, although Yami couldn't be sure, and he really didn't want to think about it too much.

Yugi had gone to bed too, but it was Yami who was awake in the bedroom now, in the early hours of morning with the Puzzle alight on his chest. Things had been going too well, he supposed. There was always something.

He went into the lounge and found Duke was snoring on the floor, propped up against Tristan. Joey was drooling on the arm of a chair, and Marik was curled on the couch, near the empty space where Bakura was supposed to be. Yami was almost tempted to wake the tomb keeper up, but the light pooling from under the bathroom door caught his eye and stopped him.

He crept over and gave it a careful knock. "Ryou? Serenity? He rather hoped it was one of those two. Sensible people, with no history of craziness. Well, Ryou had his moments… When there was no reply to either name, Yami braced himself. "Bakura?"

There was no answer. Yami glanced down at his Puzzle and took it as good enough confirmation of what to do. He pressed a hand against the bathroom door.

The tiled floor, painfully white, was dotted with red. Yami followed the odd trail to the wall. Bakura was sat against it; his knees up and his head bowed into them, like he might have just been sick and was waiting for his stomach to settle.

"Hey," Yami wavered a moment, then went to Bakura's side. "What's wrong?"

The Spirit made a coughing sound, but didn't lift his head or speak at all.

"Bakura? Are you sick?" then Yami noticed the red leaking past the Spirit's arms, down his elbows and onto the floor. "_Hey_."

He pulled Bakura's head up and saw the Ring clutched tight between his hands; they were red and white knuckled. The Ring was glowing as bright as the Puzzle, and it's points were moving about jerkily.

Bakura coughed again, and Yami watched, partially reviled, as the blood ran from his open mouth onto the floor. His hands were shaking on the Ring, like he was trying in vain to hold onto it. He fell onto his side, moaning a bit.

Yami bent over him; "Bakura, can you hear me? Please, tell me if you can?"

The Spirit's fingers scraped at the Ring, and Yami didn't think, as he placed his hand over Bakura's, and tried to recall the link that he knew existed between them.

The Puzzle jangled, and it's glow seemed to reach the Ring's.

Yami remembered the way Bakura's mind had touched his own, how the Puzzle and the Ring had touched each other, because Bakura was brash and bold enough to invade Yami's mind like that. He remembered the excitement and the thrill of it, and how he'd been disappointed to think it might not be there anymore. He blinked at Bakura's prone form now, realising it was his turn to be brash and bold.

He closed his hand round Bakura's on the Ring, feeling the sensations of the other Spirit, and finding the familiarity which was Bakura, whatever he was.

It hardly mattered; Yami knew the presence well enough now, as he fell back into the Spirit's mind.

000000000000

He'd never get used to the sensation; the creeping darkness that was Bakura's Soul Room made Yami light headed and prickled him with shock, like he was being doused in freezing cold water. But he was more focussed now, and he knew what to expect at least.

He lifted himself up, panting a bit, to see the large silhouette standing before him come to life with a familiar deep voice;

"This one, again? You are always inviting royalty into your sick little mind, aren't you?" Dark Marik said. "And at the most inopportune moments too." He tilted his spiked head away from Bakura. He was holding the Spirit by the collar. Bakura was limp and seemed to be unconscious, but then he turned his head and looked at Yami as well.

"What are you doing here?" the Spirit's voice was faint but somehow indignant, despite his predicament.

Yami held the Puzzle between his hands. "Let him go."

Dark Marik raised a brow and laughed, dropping Bakura anyway. Bakura sank to the ground, holding his neck. The Ring was still there.

"Bakura, come to me," Yami ordered, keeping his eyes trained on dark Marik. "_Quickly_."

Bakura looked at Yami, his gaze bemused, then he started to get up and fell back down again.

Dark Marik laughed. "He can't, I've drained him of most of his energy. All that remains is for me to take the Ring. And I must thank you, Pharaoh. You've saved me the trouble of coming after you and your item too."

"It won't be so easy," Yami focussed upon his Puzzle, encouraged by the energy that flowed through his fingers and sparked out toward Dark Marik. He watched with mild satisfaction as the creature staggered back with the hit.

His cape of dark purple coiled round as he yielded the Rod. Yami tensed, readying himself for it's attack. But Marik turned to Bakura instead, and the Rod's light exploded toward the Spirit.

Yami set his Puzzle in motion at the same moment, and he ran between them.

White hot heat met his vision, as the Rod and all it's energy stung at his body, and the Puzzle burned into his chest, like it might be on fire. Dark Marik's laugh was low and mostly drowned out by sound which shouldn't have existed, till Yami realised it was his own scream.

He collapsed onto his knees, panting and sucking in air that hurt his tendered lungs.

His ears were ringing, and as he blinked round everything looked bleary and unclear. It took him a minute or two to recognise the Soul Room was foggy with dispersing darkness; twisting up over his head and disappearing into the air like phantom snakes. Dark Marik was nowhere to be seen.

Bakura lay on his back a few feet away, staring at the ceiling.

"You shouldn't have helped," he muttered.

"You're welcome." Yami crawled over to him, his body shaking and feeling unusual. Then, as he ran a hand over the Puzzle, a terrible unease gripped him.

"Yugi…"

"What is it?" Bakura pulled himself upright, frowning at Yami.

"…I can't…he's not here…I can't find the link..." Yami clutched the Puzzle tighter, like that might help, but of course it couldn't. Nausea stung his throat, the emptiness inside of him was overwhelming. "Yugi…he's gone…I can't sense him at all!"

"Stop it," Bakura's hand was harsh on Yami's arm, then he grabbed the Puzzle. "Keep still,"

"What are you doing?" Yami cried and tried to pull away.

"I said _keep still_!" Bakura growled, and then his Ring began to glow rather faintly. A soft flow of light stemmed from it, and Yami lurched back on instinct; it was usually the mark of an attack. Bakura held him in place though, his hand tight on the Puzzle round Yami's neck.

Yami could only watch as the two items glowed in unison, then the light from Bakura's Ring reached the Puzzle's, and Yami made a small noise of surprise as a coil of strange black smoke fell away from the item, and floated up onto the ceiling of the Soul Room.

Bakura let go of the Puzzle and stepped away. "He's gone now."

"I know that!" Yami said savagely, thinking of Yugi.

"No, Marik's darkness is gone," Bakura said. "for the moment, anyway." he kept his eyes on the Puzzle. "Your host should be there again."

Yami grabbed the Puzzle in his hands, shaking a bit as he concentrated on the link for himself.

Bakura was correct; Yugi's presence was simmering about his mind, like it had never gone away. For a moment Yami was truly elated. Then he remembered Bakura, who was watching him strangely, his eyes fixed and narrowed.

Yami grabbed the Ring, pulling Bakura close. The Spirit smiled through his grimace;

"Are you angry?" he asked knowingly.

"Shut up," Yami spoke through his teeth.

It should have been a relief, to return to the safety of the real world. But Yami came round wanting to cry, pulling out of Bakura's mind as fast as he could manage, and testing the link which was Yugi with a wretched sort of comfort.

"What happened?" he demanded. "what happened to Yugi?"

Bakura sat up shakily, wiping his mouth. "I suppose it was to be expected." he muttered.

"_Expected_? What was to be expected?"

Bakura's gaze faltered. "Since you protected me from Marik's dark half," he said slowly, like he was unsure of the fact himself, "You have forged a link with him too."

"What are you saying?" Yami stood up, his head was aching, and he could barely find Yugi's link; the presence was so weak.

"It's simple," Bakura coughed, and more blood leaked from his mouth as he doubled up, "since you used yourself as a shield for me, Dark Marik now has access to your link as well. Now he can attempt to reach your host, just as he attempts to reach Marik through me."

"Yugi?" Yami realised. His chest felt hard with sickness. "He's just a _boy_…how is he expected to defend himself from this monster?"

Bakura grinned, blood flashing on his teeth; "It's up to you to protect your host, Pharaoh. I thought you were good at that."

Yami stared at the Spirit, all upset draining away and falling into anger. Bakura did not show any remorse, did not show any concern, he just sat with his mouth full of blood, shaped into a crooked leer, like he'd expected it all to happen like this.

"You think this is amusing?" Yami snarled. "To have put another innocent in this mess?"

Bakura shrugged; "I didn't do anything. It was your actions that decided this would happen."

"Is that all you can say?"

"Your host is not my concern."

"You_ bastard,_"Yami slammed into the Spirit, and flung him back onto the ground. Bakura groaned but his mouth was still quivering a grin.

"What's wrong, Pharaoh?" he asked, breathing unevenly. "Didn't you even know this could happen…?"

"_Of course I didn't_!"

Yami put his hands tight round the Spirit's throat, pressing it hard. He wouldn't think about what he was doing. He was too angry for that. He wanted to kill that nasty grin and everything it belonged to;

"Do you think I'd want to protect your life at the cost of _Yugi's_? Do you really think I'd _ever_ do that?"

"…no." Bakura croaked. "Of course not…" He heaved a bit, and his eyes flickered as he seemed to struggle with consciousness.

"I would never do that! I'd never choose your life over his!" Yami eased his grip only a little, just to hear the wretched Spirit's response;

"I…I didn't expect you to protect me at all…"

The words were soft. A grateful look flashed on Bakura's face, and Yami was caught by it. Thick blood was still pooling from the Spirit's mouth, and Yami remembered why it was there. He released Bakura at once.

"Of course I would protect…" Yami realised. "There's no question, whoever it was…"

Bakura coughed as he took in needed air; "you would help," he muttered. "that's just how you always were before…"

Yami tipped his head, so that he was low and close to Bakura, but not in a threatening way.

"Before what?" he asked.

Bakura struggled up into a sitting position. He ran slender fingers over his neck and grimaced at Yami.

"Quite the grip you have there, Pharaoh."

"Tell me," Yami held Bakura's sleeve, ignoring everything else. "What did you mean by that?"

Bakura blinked at Yami's hand, his face undecided between repulsion and resignation. Then he looked at Yami and closed a hand round the Puzzle at the same time, as though trying to test his reaction.

Yami didn't say anything; he anticipated Bakura's essence. He felt the Puzzle light up against his chest, and then the glow emitting from Bakura's Ring too. Yami reached out and held it.

The Ring burned, but not in a painful way. It was intense and flared inside his mind, making it run with distant, dream-like thoughts. Like the tips of memories he couldn't yet grab a hold of, even though they were so close and he almost knew what there were. He could almost see them, teasing and baiting him.

"You do know, don't you?" he said to Bakura. "You know everything about me…everything I need to know, don't you?"

Bakura took a while to answer; his expression was glazed; almost bored, not hindered by any sort of emotion.

"I don't know that much," he murmured. "so don't waste your time asking me."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Yami demanded.

Bakura shut his eyes, and his features sunk into exhaustion. "You should let Yugi out now," he said. "He wants to."

"What?" Yami snapped. He hated that Bakura might use his own host's name so knowingly, never mind know things he might not. He pushed Bakura's hand away from the Puzzle, then remembered his own on the Ring. Jerking away, he felt Bakura's exhaustion disappear from his mind, along with everything else about his essence.

It was easy to find and leave the Spirit's mind, Yami realised, now he knew what to do.

"I could detect your host through the link, and he wants to come out," Bakura explained. "Perhaps you are unable to sense it just yet."

Yami opened his mouth, wanting to be indignant, but not sure what about.

"Is he…will he be okay?" he asked instead. It was weird asking Bakura that sort of thing.

"Probably," Bakura said, like he could care less.

"You could at least _pretend_ to have some concern," Yami said hatefully.

"You want me to lie to you, now?" Bakura snapped back, and seemed to wince with it. He rubbed a hand on his back. "I could detect your host's presence, isn't that comfort enough for you?"

"No it isn't," Yami said. "especially hearing if from the likes of you."

Bakura grinned a bit; "my word means so little to you, and yet you have no choice but to take it."

"I have other choices," Yami said steadily. "but I'm more moral than that."

"Threats? How wonderful. I wonder how far I can push you?"

"This isn't a game, Bakura. No matter what you might think."

Bakura nodded. "I know." he looked at the Puzzle again. "So let your host come out."

Yami saw Bakura's expression somehow matching his serious words. The Spirit's mouth faltered and for a moment Yami saw the strain there. There was no point in trying to second guess things now. Even if it was frightening, listening to Bakura, and trying to trust what he said.

Yami remembered that Yugi wanted to trust Bakura, for now at least.

He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall into his own Soul Room. Yugi's essence passed by him, brief and rather weak, but there all the same. It covered him then, as it returned to it's corporal body.

0000

Yugi whimpered and slumped down on Bakura's chest.

"Hm." the boy said, and nothing else.

Bakura hauled himself up some more, so that he was rested on his elbows. He stared at Yugi with an irritated face, and then spat the rest of the blood out of his mouth.

000000

Notes: this didn't really want to write. Probably needs editing. Hopefully I can pick it up next time. There was also going to be a kiss between certain people (no, not that Duke/Serenity one) but I'm evil and decided to hold it off. Also Kaiba will come back, I love him too much to dismiss him in an off-page duel. He'll be nice n pissed off too.

Happy Holidays everyone, and here's to a better New Year.

.


	12. The Puzzle With The Ring

An update! Don't die of shock, now…

**Chapter 12**

**The Puzzle With The Ring**

"What have you done?" Tea skidded into the bathroom, face flushed and furious, with no fear as she wrenched Yugi off Bakura. She looked like she might kill.

Bakura's laugh was mostly a cough, and he peered up at his shocked audience with some amusement.

"Hey, this isn't funny," Joey went for him, grabbing the Spirit's collar with vicious strength; "what did you do to Yug?"

"Nothing," Bakura said quietly, "I don't expect you to believe me, so it's okay."

Joey loosened his hold on the Spirit, looking confused. He turned to Tea, who was holding Yugi in her arms.

"Is he okay?"

"I think so…he's just passed out, I think."

"What happened here?" Duke rubbed his eyes, looking rough and bemused by the bathroom. "did someone get too happy with the drinks in the night? I don't remember bleeding everywhere, so I'm sorry if I did…"

"Shut up, Duke," Tristan muttered. He was looking at Bakura, who coughed again. "someone should wake Marik up."

"I'm awake," Marik's voice sounded from the doorway, and he walked through the parting group, looking frightened. He knelt next to Bakura, who gave him a withering look.

"I'm okay," the Spirit said gruffly.

"You're bleeding."

"It washes right off," Bakura smirked, but Marik wasn't very amused. The red liquid that fell in sharp contrast with the Spirit's pale skin was shocking, even if it wasn't as bad as all that.

"What happened here?" Tea asked, her eyes trained on Yugi like she couldn't bear to look at anything else.

"I know," Marik said, before Bakura could start to speak. He pressed a hand on the Spirit's chest. "this is my dark half again, isn't it? I know it's him. It's _always _him…"

"Don't get upset," Bakura said, as though he was disgusted by the sight.

"I'm more terrified, actually," Duke said. "This thing can get to Yugi as well now?"

"Seems that way," Joey glanced at Bakura, his face unable to decide if it wanted to be suspicious or not. "is that what it is? Can this thing get Yug too?"

"Yes," Bakura said flatly.

Tea snapped her head up and started toward the Spirit, her hands trembling into vague fists.

"Don't," Marik moving to protect Bakura, but it was someone else who stopped Tea.

"Easy," said Tristan, pulling her back. "let's get Yugi to bed now, right? We want to make sure he's better before anything else, don't we?"

"I guess," Tea rubbed her eyes roughly. As Tristan and Serenity led her out the room, Joey helped Yugi up, with some help from Duke.

Marik watched them file out, then he put his arms round Bakura's back, pulling him upright and holding him a little too tight.

Ryou stood in the doorway, like it was his job to look uncomfortable and unsure of what to do.

"You could wash it off," he suggested, after a moment. His eyes darted between Marik and Bakura, and he smiled hopefully. Bakura grimaced, leaning back against Marik.

"You _are _hurt." Marik said. "I knew it."

"not very surprising," Ryou rolled his eyes, and seemed to have made up his mind. He side stepped into the bathroom, knelt by the bath and started turning the taps. He hummed to himself in an inappropriately cheery way.

Marik nodded; "yeah, that's the right idea." he looked back at Bakura, who seemed to have resigned himself to looking pissed off and wounded. "It was my dark half, wasn't it?" Marik pressed anyway, and held Bakura's wrist tighter. He'd hardly been aware he was holding it anyway.

Bakura snarled and wrenched away. He slouched back against the wall. "No questions now, Marik." there was a note of apology in his voice, just enough for Marik to let it slide.

Soon the room was starting to steam, and Ryou bent down to them unexpectedly. There was no fear in his face anymore, Marik noticed, as the boy put a hand on Bakura's shoulder.

"I know you didn't hurt Yugi," Ryou said. "I felt it, through the link, I mean."

He got up then and walked to the door. Both Marik and Bakura stared after him. Marik's stomach flipped with a sort of relief. Even if he believed Bakura wasn't a complete maniac, that didn't make it true. To hear Ryou say it…to confirm it was, suddenly made things much better. Marik cleared his throat;

"Ryou…tell the others that, then."

"Of course I will," Ryou hesitated in the doorway. "if you want anything, just shout."

The door clipped shut, and Marik was left to Bakura, who sat like he might be considering going to sleep. Marik gave him a gentle shake, and the Spirit blinked and scowled at him.

"A bath?" he muttered.

"Can you get up alright?" Marik squeezed his shoulder and started to stand.

"Yes of course," Bakura followed him up, but staggered forward.

"No you can't," Marik grabbed him with some alarm.

"I'm alright, I just need to be stronger next time."

"You're weaker right now," Marik pointed out, and helped Bakura to the bath. It was full with water, and tinted a greenish colour with the many bubble baths Ryou had thought to add to it. Marik moved back a bit, but kept a hand hovering close to Bakura. Suddenly he felt awkward, and turned away from the Spirit. "um, shall I just…"

Bakura answered the question for him. He stepped immediately into the bath, fully clothed, and then sat down with a scowl.

"Is it too hot?" Marik asked.

"No. I just hate it."

"Oh," Marik watched as the water around the Spirit began to ribbon with red, the blood seeping away from Bakura's clothes and skin. "You know, you might feel better taking some of those off." Marik suggested, wanting to sound casual about it.

Bakura tugged half-heartedly at his jacket, allowing it to come undone. Marik took it, but was mostly distracted by bare, bloody skin. Bakura's torso was pale with very prominent ribs.

"You really need to eat more."

"I ate lots yesterday," Bakura reminded.

"Toast won't fill you up. I would have thought Ryou's weedy physic is proof enough of that." Marik allowed himself a smirk, and hoped Bakura might see the humour in it. He wanted a sneer, at least. Marik liked how even the malicious flash of his eyes looked alive when he did that.

"Anyway. Why'd you hate baths so much? Don't you usually bath?" Marik tried again, as he swam a hand lightly through the water, testing the temperture.

"Why would I?" Bakura asked like it was the most stupid question ever asked. "You know I have never needed to."

"Alright, I get it." Marik backed off. "You didn't have a body and all that."

Bakura rubbed his arms, scratching away some dry blood. Marik couldn't help but follow the smooth line of his arm up to his shoulder, and then how it curved off onto his slightly hunched forwards back. His hair was matted over it, tapering off at his lower back. Marik could see blood dripping from beneath it. He reached out and swept Bakura's hair to the side.

There was a nasty red gash right across his shoulder blades, and it was still bleeding a fair bit. Marik swallowed a gasp but Bakura seemed to see the look on his face.

"What is it?"

"You're wounded…on your back." Marik explained. "does it hurt very much?"

"Not really," Bakura said like he was bored.

Marik shook his head; "what the hell did my other…what did that thing do to you?"

Bakura didn't answer. Instead he just bowed his head a little to take some sort of interest in the pinkish coloured water. Marik let his gaze wander over the nape of the Spirit's neck, and the purplish marks that covered most of it.

"What's this?" Marik touched it with the tip of his fingers.

"Don't worry, that was mostly just the Pharaoh." Bakura thought about it; "Or maybe the girl Tea. I don't recall," he looked at Marik, his mouth curving a grin. "Nobody can keep their hands off me."

Marik forced a laugh. "You crazy ex-tomb robbers, just irresistible, aren't you?"

"It's the only explanation."

Marik smiled through his concern, and gathered a wet cloth in his hand. He moved it very carefully over Bakura's back, but even so the Spirit cried out and arced away.

"I'm sorry," Marik stammered. "I thought…I thought you said it didn't hurt too much?"

"Yes, when you're not _touching_ it."

"Sorry," Marik repeated. He lowered the cloth, feeling rather hopeless.

Bakura exhaled sharply, then he raised a fisted hand out of the water. For a moment Marik was frightened, and didn't really have time to back away. It didn't matter, Bakura just plunged the fist back into the bath, splashing water everywhere with an angry growl.

"Bakura-"

"It won't happen again, I promise it won't." Bakura snarled. His hair curtained his face so Marik could not know his expression. Even so, Marik could hardly bare it. He turned away and squeezed the cloth tight in his hands.

"I wish I could kill it," he said quietly.

Bakura raised his head, giving him a questioning look.

"I wish I could get it in my own hands," Marik carried on, "And strangle it to death."

"You don't need to," Bakura said. "I can do that for you." he caught the look on Marik's face. "you doubt me?"

Marik stared at him. He did doubt it; he couldn't help it. Bakura was all bloody and weak sitting in the bath like that, his eyes rung with purple and his body so brittle it looked like it might actually snap. It made Marik want to cry.

"You're still bleeding quite a bit," he said instead. "are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I told you-"

"I know, I know. Stop worrying so much. Damn my conscience. Fatal human flaw."

"You lot have so many," Bakura agreed, and sunk back into the bath a bit more. Marik watched him sigh and close his eyes, like he might be enjoying it at last. "I wonder why you worry so much."

"Because I'm human. There, another flaw."

"I should make a list of them all," Bakura said airily, "but it would take far too long. And I don't exactly have another three thousand years to kill."

"Very funny." Marik said, but was happy to see the smile tug at Bakura's mouth. It made him want to smile too, to remember Bakura could be halfway normal like that.

Bakura seemed to notice, and he leaned forwards, resting his arms on the edge of the bath.

"You're happy," he kept his eyes on Marik, like he was purely fascinated by the human. Marik supposed he should have felt uncomfortable, but he realised he wasn't, and he was used to Bakura and every strange thing he did and said.

"Mm, I am a bit." He put his hand on Bakura's, they felt wet and warm with the bathwater.

"Is it nice?" Bakura asked.

"Is what nice?"

"That I feel warm to you?"

Marik considered; "Yeah. It's kinda weird, though."

"If I stay here, I'll always be warm."

"No you won't, you lunatic. You'll dry up like a prune and freeze to death."

Bakura frowned; "prune?" he stared at the bloodied water. "I like to feel warm." he said, more like he was talking to himself.

"Yeah, well," Marik squeezed his hand a bit more. "there are other ways."

Bakura blinked at him, as though he was just remembering Marik was even there. He looked tired, almost like he was in a daze. Then he bowed his head very slowly.

His lips were faint and soft on Marik's hand, and Marik just stared, not knowing how else to react. The touch was colder than human.

Bakura tilted his head back up, his eyes suddenly wide, and his shoulders shivering.

"You…I think you should get out now," Marik stammered over his words. "you're getting cold."

"I'm always cold." Bakura murmured, echoing what Duke had said not so long ago. "it can't be helped."

Marik gripped the Spirit's hand tighter. "c'mon, let's get you out." He pulled Bakura upwards, and the Spirit leant into him; the naked and wet flesh of his torso pressed into Marik, and his arms hung gracelessly at his sides.

He staggered out of the bath and sunk to his knees, rubbing his head with one hand, the other still tight in Marik's.

"are you okay?" Marik asked, full of concern.

"I feel dizzy."

"that's my fault," Marik said at once. "you shouldn't get out of baths too quickly." he knew he was making excuses.

Bakura lifted his head. "The warmth goes away too fast." he said rather ruefully. "I wish there was a way I could keep some."

Marik could feel the sensations of life leaving his hand even as Bakura uttered his odd ramblings. It was like the heat was being drained away from the Spirit's palm in his own, until it was ice cool as it always was. Still he clutched the Spirit's hand tighter.

He searched Bakura's dark eyes, not knowing what he might regret; "I told you, there are other ways."

Bakura opened his mouth, he still looked dazed as he leaned forwards, closing the gap between their faces. Then his eyes drooped, and Marik realised he was collapsing. He caught the Spirit against his chest, knowing it had little to do with getting out of baths too quickly.

"Okay, you need to lie down now, stupid."

"Is everything alright?" Ryou peered in the doorway. "need some help?"

Marik told Ryou to be careful around Bakura's back, as they led him into the lounge and onto the couch. He didn't feel like he had to tell Ryou about the injury, he had a feeling Ryou already knew.

0000

In the lounge Joey and Tristan were fighting over donuts, whilst Duke was zoning out in front of the tv. Serentiy stood in the kitchen, and gave Marik a tight, unconvincing smile as she poured herself a drink.

"Is Yugi gonna be okay?" Marik asked her.

Serenity nodded; "I think so. Tea's just sitting with him. She's a bit confused about all this, you know."

"We all are," Duke said, eyes not leaving the tv. "Hey, Spirit dude. Can you fix the tv again? Signal's all screwed up."

Marik pulled a face; "Bakura is in no condition to be playing tv repairman."

"When am I ever in a condition to be doing that?" Bakura said sardonically.

He was feeling a little better, if nothing else. That moment in the bath had been strange. He had felt Marik's connection stronger than anything, and for a while it has been almost frightening, the need to touch, to feel another humans heat against his skin…

Now he sat on the couch and watched Duke complain about the tv, and Tristan and Joey's donut disagreement that had devolved into a messy food fight. These humans were so oblivious to everything. It was somehow funny.

"So, can you fix it?" Duke pushed the tv aerial in Bakura's hands. "come on, work your crazy demon magic."

"Duke!" Marik said, "can't you fix it yourself?"

"Hey, you didn't see it. This guy can do amazing things with that Ring."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "you still trust me with it?"

Duke nodded. "Sure. Well Ryou told us you didn't hurt Yug."

Bakura looked round at Joey and Tristan. Mostly Tristan. The human looked neutral, he even seemed to smile a little. It was rather alarming.

"Donut?" Joey offered.

Bakura took one sceptically, but he was hungry and needed the energy after all that had happened.

"Serenity leaned over the couch, looking ponderous. "I wonder if this will put plans on going to Egypt on hold?"

"Since when were you going, sis?" Joey said.

"Since always. I'm not a kid anymore, you know."

She glanced at Duke then, a shy sort of smile crossing her mouth. Tristan coughed loudly and turned away. "Take the stupid donut. I don't want it." He shoved it in Joey's hands.

Joey grinned obliviously; "thanks, buddy!" he turned to Serenity; "And I know you're not a kid anymore. A brother has to look out for his little sister though, you know?"

Serenity rolled her eyes, "Big bro, we'd have been dead long ago if I left the 'looking out' all up to you," she patted his head affectionately, then bent to Duke, her hair curtaining most of her face as they kissed quickly.

Both Joey and Tristan recoiled a bit.

"Alright. You're not so little," Joey said. "no need to show it off."

Serenity blushed then went to Yugi's bedroom. "I'm going to keep Tea company."

As the door closed Tristan grumbled something about needing fresh air, and he left the apartment. Duke, still mostly concerned with the television and his latest soap opera addiction, pushed the aerial back into Bakura's hands.

"You're coming to Egypt too, aren't you?" he asked the Spirit.

Marik rolled his eyes. The tomb keeper had settled on the couch, close enough so that Bakura could feel his heat, and their links were open, just as Bakura wanted it.

"Why would I go to Egypt?" Bakura played along, giving the aerial a quick tap. The tv screen crackled and Duke alternated between cheers and groans as the picture came in and out of view.

Ryou sat down on the floor. "Yugi is set on going to Egypt to help the Pharaoh figure out his past. He's going to need you too, because you have to Ring."

"True." Bakura tapped the Ring against the tv aerial, watching as the picture became clear and bright. Duke cheered.

"See, how amazing is that?"

"Wonderful," Marik said sarcastically. He tipped his head, so that it rested more to the side, and almost on Bakura's shoulder. He sighed in a way that made Bakura want to move closer to him, and maybe curl his hand properly around Marik's. "Will you go to Egypt with us, Bakura?"

Bakura found himself nodding slightly.

He liked the soft flow of their link; and how soothing it was to find the tomb keeper's essence so relaxed and content around his own, the way it made him remember feelings and thoughts which seemed impossible when Marik wasn't there.

"Marik," he murmured, feeling strange with such realisations. "I'll go if you go."

Then he caught Marik's hand properly, and didn't want to let go. It was much too glorious a feeling, to grasp the human that he knew wanted him like this, and actually trusted him for what he was. He liked to be wanted.

Bakura wasn't even sure when he'd started caring about such things, only that he did.

"_I know,"_ Marik spoke through their link, almost an answer to his confused ponderings. "I'll be going to Egypt. I want to help the Pharaoh too." he said aloud. He smiled then; "I'm just happy my brother is all okay. He's coming out of hospital tomorrow. Isn't that great?"

Bakura knew it probably was, so he nodded along. He recalled Marik's sister, and her Item. He wondered absently how much she knew, what she could tell about him…

"_Go to sleep. You're tired." _Marik said through the link.

Bakura would have protested, but how pointless it was, when Marik's mind ran through him, knowing he was on the brink of exhaustion. Marik could know everything if he wanted, Bakura realised. He didn't need an Item.

Bakura sighed and wasn't much alarmed by the idea any longer. And it was nice to fall asleep with such familiar warmth there, familiar enough that he didn't have to worry for a little while.

0000

It was a strange experience being perfectly conscious within an unconscious host. Yami had experienced it only a couple of times before, but it was always something that stayed with him.

He could still find Yugi's link, but it was all quiet and blank. Even in sleep Yami could still sense Yugi's emotions as he dreamed, but unconsciousness brought none of that. It was like the connection was dead, and it made Yami remember Yugi was hurt.

At least the link was still there though. Not like before, in Bakura's accursed Soul Room. Yami knew he wouldn't forget that feeling; the emptying sensation, almost like he'd lost a part of himself, even if it was only for a few minutes.

He took control of Yugi's body with reluctance. Even though he was still quite conscious, it didn't make it any easier. Without Yugi's link knowingly letting him take control, and being injured as he was, it was like wading through water to find the edges of limbs, and learning how to make them move again.

Yami felt guilty for it as he sat up in bed, stretching out his body and knowing Yugi would do better to rest. He felt worse to see Tea sleeping on the bedside chair, and Serenity curled close by in a sleeping bag. But now was not the time.

Yami needed to find out what had happened in the Soul Room, and how he could stop it. He needed answers, and if Bakura was not willing to give them Yami would have to look for himself.

He crept out the bedroom into the lounge, not surprised to see Bakura sleeping on the couch. It seemed to be his bed now. Marik was sleeping there too, his shoulder soft against Bakura's.

Yami hesitated. Bakura wouldn't wake up yet; Yami could sense how tired he was. But Marik might be different, and Yami knew he'd probably be furious to know his intentions.

It couldn't wait, though. Yugi was in danger _now_.

Yami walked with determination and placed a hand on Bakura's wrist. He felt very cold, like he'd been outside too long, and didn't stir. There were traces of bruising around his neckline but Yami didn't think about that.

He closed his eyes and easily found the Spirit's link. It crackled and occasionally broke apart for a few seconds, like it was struggling to stay in existence. Yami smiled grimly. It was going to be much easier, now that Bakura had been weakened so much. It was just as Yami had anticipated.

He pushed back the force of the Spirit's mind, which felt more like a curtain than any sort of shield now, and entered Bakura's Soul Room with an ease that surprised even himself.

Recovering himself, he opened his eyes and peered round the mind. It was dim and empty, save the folds of dark that drifted about above him. Yami knew what it was, and he watched it for a moment with baited breath.

It coiled downward, thinning out at the tips and tentatively reaching him. Then, barely millimetres away, it jerked back, like it had been repelled. It curved back up to the ceiling and stayed there.

Yami wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not, but for now he'd take it as one. If it was Marik's darkness perhaps it was still too weak to attempt any sort of attack. Yami held his Puzzle tighter anyway, and walked slowly around the room.

There were grey walls that looked like they might be made of stone, but when Yami got too close they seemed to become transparent and flickering. Yami found he could walk through them, with the sensation of walking through a cold waterfall rushing through his body.

It was not a maze; not like Yami's own mind, full of stairs and doors and dead ends. This was just darkness, and Yami could not see anything unless he moved to where he guessed something might be. It was not even a darkness his eyes could adjust to; it was just a constant black.

"You like to make things interesting, don't you?" Yami breathed, peering up at the ceiling. It was the one thing that remained quite visible; and that was only for the fractured movements of the dark smoke that still drifted there. "where are you, Bakura?"

Yami took some awkward steps forward. He wasn't so much afraid as he was wary. Bakura's mind was hostile enough, but an intrusion upon an _unaware_ hostile mind was probably just asking for trouble.

Moving through the black, so thick it almost seemed solid, Yami suddenly became very aware of a new presence.

It wasn't exactly Bakura, but it was something like him. Yami narrowed his eyes, trying to put vision to what he was sensing. It came to him in a flash of startling colour; deep red, and then the sensation of falling came over him.

Yami cried out and found himself on his knees, panting hard. A smell, a burning smell, was all around him, and Yami hardly dared look up. Flashes of the deep red had suddenly become flame, and they licked at Yami, yet did not harm him. Yami crawled back despite himself, they looked so _real. _

The flames were loud, but terrible sounds cut through louder; human screams which seemed to run deep into Yami's bones and make him tremble with unknown fear. The burning and screaming were like two entities becoming one, pulling him into a terrible feeling of hopelessness.

Yami screamed through it, and got to his feet with difficulty. He started to run, but something else blocked his path. Something which wasn't illusionary fire, but big and ominous. It was like nothing Yami had ever seen, and yet somehow he knew he had seen it before.

A beast that towered over him like a demon, it _was _a demon. Black wings expanded over him, casting shadow across everything, pupil-less eyes and pin sharp teeth which gaped into a permanent snarl. Yami's fear was overwhelming, if not for the resilient sting of the Puzzle against his chest, keeping his mind rooted in rationale.

_It was okay. This was just Bakura's mind. Nothing else…_

Yami clung to the thought as the demon creature came towards him, bowing it's head and widening it's jaw. It made an awful screeching noise, hideous bile dropping from it's lips, before it passed completely through Yami, like the illusion it was.

Yami turned round slowly to watch it disappear. The black all around him seemed to fade somewhat, and then Yami saw the beast was kneeling next to a stone wall. It folded it's sharp wings, and seemed to close in on itself.

As it disappeared Yami felt no sense of relief. In it's place was someone else. Sitting against the wall and staring up at the ceiling was the Spirit of the Ring. The darkness was there again, and every now and then it weaved down to the Spirit, before curling back up to the ceiling again. It was almost like it was playing with the Spirit.

Yami released a breath, unaware that his chest had been so tight. The scent of smoke, the screams and the demon monster, they were all gone. All that was left was Bakura, and Yami swallowed his fear.

"Spirit," he said slowly.

Bakura responded so fast; his head snapping to the source of the sound and then jumping to his feet. He pointed the Ring at Yami, his eyes narrowed and full of hate and fury.

"What're you doing here, Pharaoh?" he hissed.

"Didn't you sense me come into your mind?" Yami was surprised.

Bakura rocked on his heels slightly, his expression harder and more indignant. "Get out."

"You can't make me leave."

"What?" Bakura spat. "Are you really that foolish? You don't know how powerful I am, human."

Yami laughed. "I'm no more human that you. Or have you forgotten?" he took a bold step forward. "We are both Spirits. You've said it, yourself."

Bakura stepped back, as far as he could with the wall being there.

"Are you disgusted now?" Yami asked. "to be compared to myself? We're not so different are we-"

"Why are you here, Pharaoh?" Bakura's voice echoed all about the room. He held the Ring up a bit more.

"Isn't it obvious?" Yami said. " I'm here to find Dark Marik, and to destroy him."

Bakura's mouth tipped into a sneer; "Oh yes. Since your dear host got involved. Things aren't so simple now, are they?"

"I was hoping to find something out in your mind," Yami admitted. "Though I've had little luck so far." he looked about, feeling edgy. "There were…some things I saw though."

Bakura looked angry again; "You have no right invading my mind."

"What are you hiding, Bakura?"

Bakura stepped forward, his gaze testy. "I don't hide things, Pharaoh. I keep them safe until they need to be found again."

"It's the same thing."

"Why would I need to hide things? I am not afraid." Bakura blinked up at the ceiling again. "Perhaps you are attracted to dark things, too. Is that why you come here?"

"Of course it isn't."

Bakura tilted his head, ignoring the comment. "Yes, perhaps we are not so different, Pharaoh."

Yami lost his moment of calm then, overcome with ideas he might entertain thoughts of the darkness. The Puzzle stung in his hands and a blinding light blossomed from it and struck Bakura.

But the Spirit was fast enough, catching the beam with the Ring. He did little more than stumble with the impact. Yami wasn't prepared for the Ring's attack, which hit him tight in the chest, and then Bakura's demented laugh, bouncing all around the Soul Room.

Yami blinked up to see Bakura bending over him, holding the Ring between his fingers. His mouth was set in a grin but his eyes were hateful.

"You shouldn't have invaded my mind, Pharaoh. Now I have to teach you a lesson."

"_No,"_ Yami bucked up, sending Bakura sprawling back across the floor. Training his Puzzle on the Spirit, Yami attacked again, this time hitting his target. Bakura groaned but stood up quickly, readying his Ring again.

"Heh. You have some fight in you. I like it."

"I won't back down, Bakura," Yami warned, though he wasn't sure why. "I will hurt you if I must. I will do whatever it takes to help Yugi."

"Yugi," Bakura repeated the word, like he was recalling a memory. "Your precious _Yugi_."

"I care about him," Yami growled, and then noticed Bakura wavering, the Ring shaking a bit in his hand. "and I know you care too."

Bakura scoffed; "I don't care about your stupid host!"

"No, I know," Yami nodded. "you care about Marik enough, though."

Bakura took a moment to compose himself, his expression darkening. "That isn't the same," He shot more energy from the Ring.

Yami dodged it and prepared to retaliate. "Of course it is. You just don't understand it-"

Bakura cursed as Yami's attack brushed his arm. He held it for a moment then glared at Yami; "You don't understand anything, Pharaoh. The reason you came here, the reason you do anything, is because you don't understand!" He raised his Ring, preparing another attack; "And how will you ever know, when you destroy the one thing that remembers?"

Yami shielded his eyes as bright light burst forth came at him from the Ring. Energy buzzed all about him, and he prayed he'd blocked Bakura's attack fast enough.

His back met the ground hard, and he groaned with numbing pain. Across from him he heard Bakura making a similar sound. Opening his eyes, Yami saw the Spirit curled onto his side. Yami sat up and started crawling toward the Spirit, his body hurting and tender. He already felt sorry.

"Listen, Bakura…there must be an easier way we can-"

"Stop," Bakura growled, his voice so sharp that Yami was compelled to.

"What is it?"

"…look up." Bakura said softly.

Yami followed Bakura's gaze to the ceiling; there was nothing there. "Bakura, what is-"

A curl of darkness suddenly wove around Yami, dusting his neck before disappearing over his shoulder. Yami turned round to see the dark wisps resembling a detailed shadow he could recognise quite easily now, and one which he dreaded too.

"Dark Marik, how could we not sense him?" Yami murmured.

Bakura smiled as he rose to his feet, Yami following him. "He gets trickier. I think he likes this game."

"It isn't a game," Yami snapped, and watched as the shadow in front of them formed properly into Dark marik. He still held the Rod in his hand.

"Pharaoh," he grinned then bowed mockingly. "is this to become a regular thing now? You really should give me proper warning, so I might look my royal best in your presence."

"The Pharaoh just can't keep away, can he?" Bakura quipped, and gave Yami a nudge in the side. Yami glared at him then back at Dark Marik.

"I come for the Rod, and to be rid of you," he said with more bravery than he thought he possessed. "You are endangering my friends lives."

"Oh I'm very sorry," Marik snipped, then he raised his arms.

Yami felt Bakura's hand yanking him down to the ground, and he watched as a dark wave past over them, making a strange humming sound.

"Next time that happens try using your Puzzle," Bakura snapped.

Yami realised the Spirit had been defending them both; his Ring glowing and pushing up a shield before them.

"Thanks," Yami said, confused.

Dark Marik chuckled, then raised the Rod. "You still have this to deal with, my friends."

"Best bit," Bakura muttered, with a bracing grin. He gave Yami a sideways look. "time to be a brave Pharaoh. You're good at that."

Despite himself, Yami smiled tightly, suckered by the Spirit's grim humour. He held up his Puzzle in unison with the Ring, and they blocked the Rod's attack together.

It was still shockingly draining though, and the sense of triumph was brief. Dark Marik came back with another wave of sickening Darkness, and Yami was protecting both himself and Bakura; who was still recovering from the last attack.

"Get away," Bakura pushed Yami back. "I'm alright."

"He's weakened you too much," Yami realised, "How many times has he…"

Another shard of light; the Rod's power, rushed toward them, and this time Bakura was blocking it with the Ring again. He gritted his teeth and gave Yami a furious backward glance; "must you insist on conversation at such pressing times, Pharaoh?"

"I…" Yami stumbled forwards, helping ward off the attack. His limbs were aching now, and his Puzzle's strength was burning out. The guilt hit him; how would poor Yugi feel when he awoke from all of this? Wasn't he injured enough?

"Heh, I can feel your strength leaving you," Dark Marik said, his hands moving with spidery fingers, touching wisps of dark and sending them toward both Yami and Bakura. Bakura was on his knees, but he looked determined, like he knew this battle was won.

Yami prayed he was right, as he too fell to the ground, his legs feeling brittle and sucked of energy. Light flickered on the edges of his eyes as he watched Dark Marik disappear again, and for a second Yami blacked out.

He coughed and shook his head, pulling himself upright.

"So we won," he said bleakly. "Now what."

"He'll be back soon," Bakura said. He sounded so quiet, and Yami noticed he was still pressed against the ground, half curled up. He was holding the Ring very tight.

Yami bent close to him. "You said you weren't afraid."

Bakura's eyes slid to look at Yami. "not for me," he said haltingly.

Yami stared at Bakura, then nodded slowly. He thought of Yugi and the others. All of his friends who were waiting for them, and didn't know any of this was happening.

"Here," he pulled Bakura up, and the Spirit rested against his side, breathing hard. The Ring clinked against the Puzzle and they both glowed together again.

"Look," Bakura said, his eyes on the ceiling; "this is my darkness, Pharaoh. I helped it to grow."

"Why would you do that?"

"I do not know," Bakura sighed, and Yami felt the weight against him become a bit heavier as the Spirit's head tipped onto his shoulder. He looked so tired, and perhaps he did not know what he was saying. "something compels me…it is here, within me," he clutched his chest, past the Ring for a second. "it feels good…when I want it. Other times…I think it might be killing me."

The Spirit blinked at Yami then, his expression blank and almost innocent. "You're a part of my mind too, Pharaoh."

"Do you remember why?" Yami asked, full of desperate hope. "please, if you remember, tell me!"

Bakura shook his head, like he was coming to his senses. He looked round the Soul Room, scowling and annoyed. "It doesn't matter. We must get out of here…"

00000

In the next minute they were back within the dark of the lounge, just where Yami had come looking for Bakura before. The room was a soft pink with the early morning and Marik was still asleep on the couch, undisturbed.

Bakura looked much worse in his own body than he had done in the Soul Room; his limbs tensed and visibly shaking, and his face completely filmed with perspiration. Yami reached out instinctively, catching the Spirit's wrist.

Bakura jolted, his eyes widening.

"Are you aright?" Yami asked, much more concerned than he had expected to be.

Bakura nodded jerkily. His eyes wandering over to Marik, who was still asleep. He nodded again, a bit more certainly.

"Thank you," Yami said.

"Why?" Bakura looked quizzical.

"You protected me. You didn't have to."

"I only did it because you helped me." The Spirit was still shaking a fair bit, and Yami held his wrist tighter. Bakura jolted again, and this time Yami felt it too. The flow of energy running between their open links, his own energy finding Bakura's…

"You feel so weak," Yami said, not sure what else to say. He watched Bakura's eyes drop shut with a feeling of panic. He didn't want Bakura to die, for whatever reason. "Here," Yami concentrated, and focused on their link once more. An almost tangible flow of life cruised through his veins, meeting with Bakura's wrist, and as it did Bakura gasped and pulled away.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Don't worry," Yami realised now. He grabbed Bakura's wrist again. "I can give you some of my energy. Keep still."

Bakura made a noise of protest, but Yami held him steady. He moved close to the Spirit, closer than comfort at any other time. But right now Yami was sorry and grateful to Bakura. He knew the Spirit had saved him, and that Bakura wanted to care, even if he couldn't understand it himself.

It was enough for Yami.

He pulled Bakura closer, examining the wide, slightly bloodshot eyes of the Spirit, the cold sweat on his face, and the spiked hair plastered around his sharp, gaunt cheeks. Closer he got, till he could feel the energy between them finally mixing, ready to give over to whichever one of them needed it. Yami knew that Bakura was on the brink; he needed it more than anything.

"It's my thank you," Yami said softly, noticing the cracked lines of the Spirit's lips. He licked his own. "for saving me."

As the energy between them buzzed and overflowed, and Yami pressed his lips against Bakura's, he thought of Yugi and all his friends, and how much he wanted to keep them safe.

When he pulled away the links were closed and everything felt very normal. Bakura was staring at him like he was insane, but his skin looked brighter and he wasn't shaking anymore. It had worked.

Yami sighed vague relief and turned his head. There was a figure sitting up, very still and very alert on the edge of the couch.

"Marik…"

Marik's eyes glittered between Yami and Bakura; furious but mostly just confused. He stood up and left the room without saying a word.

Yami rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, listening as Bakura staggered from the couch, after the tomb keeper.

000

AN:

Okay so you probably all hate me for two reasons; 1. I took a million years to update 2. Where the heck is the thief shipping.

I hear you on both counts, but let me explain please! It's been a trying few months, new job, moving, new life really. I'm still getting to grips with everything. This story is going to be completed though, no matter how long it takes. I can only thank those people who are still reading! How patient you are. I would have given up long ago. Anyway, many thanks to Tenchibaka, who's message actually kicked me into gear with this chapter.

2) Yes this is still very much Thiefshipping. Yami/Bakura will not happen, this was just a plot device to create some drama type stuff. Though I confess Darkshipping is a favourite of mine, and hey where's the fun in not playing with and hijacking the ships, hm? -is a pirate-

Also I'm sorry if this was all badly written and all that. I'm all rusty, give me a break. I will update sooner. Next time we get a proper soap opera of a chapter, with less of the damn darkness thing going on. Duke will like that.

Once again thanks for all your reviews. They mean so much to me.


	13. Confused Plans

**Chapter 13**

**Confused Plans**

As inconsequential as it probably was, Marik couldn't help but feel a sting in his nerves after what he'd just seen.

He knew better than to think Bakura liked Yami...in _that_ way. Marik had doubts Bakura liked anything at all. But it didn't make it any easier.

He hurried into the bedroom, where bodies were sprawled out sleeping against the very early morning glow of light, pushing through the curtains. Marik couldn't close the door in time, as Bakura pressed it open with mild force. His expression was shadowed and stern as he approached Marik.

"Get out," Marik hissed, backing up a fair bit, and almost treading on a torso in the process. A faint moan confirmed it was Ryou; still mostly asleep. Marik kept his eyes sharp on Bakura. "Get out," he repeated. "I don't want to talk."

Bakura looked like he was going to protest, but it was ridiculous even to Marik. Bakura wouldn't try to justify, apologise or explain himself. There was no understanding there. Marik could see it even now, in the dim semi-light of the bedroom, the blank and familiar look in the Spirit's eyes. Always prominent, always reminding Marik what he was.

It hurt even more than that stupid kiss.

"Don't you understand?" Marik gritted his teeth. "Leave me alone!"

Bakura's expression hardly faltered. He slipped slowly back out the door. It clipped quietly shut behind him.

Marik heaved a sigh that felt like it had always been there, then settled shakily onto the floor, unable to contain a sob. He rubbed his eyes, then turned round to find Ryou looking at him with some concern, propped up on his elbows.

"Want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," Marik murmured, clearing his throat and trying to seem less pathetic.

"Sometimes it helps," Ryou shrugged. "I mean...I can't promise that. Especially if it's more demon invasion type stuff. I'm pretty awful with that. But I'm a great listener. Well actually I'm just told I am...I can't be sure if that's true or not..." he trailed off, smiling lamely. "I'm also a terrible rambler. Just tell me to shut up."

Marik was already smiling, just a little. He liked Ryou, who had a kind, unassuming face, soft eyes and a warm smile. In that moment Marik thought he looked almost angelic, with the backdrop of morning sun haloing him like that.

He was like the anti-Bakura really. They may have owned the same bodies, the same faces, but their features were anything but alike. Where Ryou's eyes shone, Bakura's darkened. When Ryou smiled it was easy and fluid, like liquid. When Bakura smiled it was always gradual, creeping...like he wasn't even sure he could do it.

"Marik, you look tired," Ryou observed. "You should sleep."

"I'm not really," Marik shook his head, then lay down, propping his cheek on his hand, mirroring the other boy's position. "I'm just so tired of everything that keeps happening."

"It's a very weird situation you're in," Ryou admitted. "But remember, you've got two other people who've felt this same sort of thing," he smiled a bit. "Anyone would think this multiple personality stuff was catching."

Marik managed another smile then. "Yeah, pity mine's got a few screws loose, isn't it?"

"I don't think Bakura will win any awards in the sanity department either," Ryou pointed out, somewhat hesitantly.

Marik wanted to defend the Spirit; at any other time he would. But Yami and Bakura, locked together on the couch was still too close in his mind, so he just nodded. And anyway Ryou was right. Bakura wasn't all there, he really did walk the line of sanity.

"I just...I keep thinking things will be okay," he said, looking past Ryou to the window. "But then something happens and I realise it's not."

"Things will get better. Your brother is okay now, right?"

"I know, and I'm glad, of course I am." Marik said quickly. "But...some things are complicated...and confusing."

Ryou's eyes darted uncertainly, and he seemed to swallow in that awkward way of his. "Marik, I can understand if you're worried about Bakura-"

Marik pulled a face. "I'm sick of worrying about him," he snapped. "I feel like it's all a waste of time."

"I don't think it is," Ryou said, his voice quiet but firm at the same time. It made Marik curious;

"How can you be so sure?"

Ryou tapped his head; "I still have that link, remember."

"I feel sorry for you," Marik muttered.

Ryou shook his head, smiling wryly. "Marik, things are very different now. Before, when I was Bakura's host, I didn't feel anything except my own fear...I couldn't guess whatever Bakura might be thinking, because he never let me know," he paused a moment. "He wants to protect you, Marik. I feel it all the time."

Marik considered it. Ryou's face looked so sincere, he _sounded _sincere. But that was just the kind of person Ryou was.

Marik leaned forwards, close to Ryou, incase someone else might hear; "Something happened...between him and Yami," he winced even with the words, and prayed that Ryou wouldn't ask him to elaborate.

Ryou opened his mouth, like he might, but seemed to read Marik's expression at the last second. He hesitated, then placed a hand over Marik's.

"Well, whatever happened, I'm sure Yami did it for the best. You know he wants to end all of this, don't you?"

Marik nodded, feeling another stupid lump rising in the back of his throat. "I'm just scared. I know it won't stop..not until it kills me. I know it."

Ryou sat up properly in his sleeping bag, careful not to knock Joey, who was stretched out near his feet.

"It's not going to kill you, understand?" there was a rare note of defiance in Ryou's calming voice, and he placed both hands on Marik's shoulders, forcing the tomb keeper to look at him. "Everyone here wants to protect you. I already told you, I can sense Bakura wants to-"

"He's still...he's not _human_, though," Marik interrupted, shivering as he said it. He grabbed Ryou's wrists, holding them tight, feeling how warm they were compared to Bakura. When he glanced at Ryou's face, he could almost squint and see Bakura.

It wasn't the same.

Ryou moved back a little, like he knew Marik's thoughts and was disturbed by them.

Marik didn't really care; too much was going on to pay attention to what others thought about his own sanity. And he had an excuse, with his other half trying to kill him and all that.

He laughed softly, amused by his own casual thoughts. It seemed like nothing would surprise him anymore.

Ryou smiled nervously. "Get some sleep, Marik."

At the same moment the doorbell rang, quickly followed by a sharp succession of knocks. Tristan mumbled from somewhere on the bed, but Joey was the one who sat up, rubbing his eyes.

He blinked at the clock and frowned sleepily; "who the heck is that?"

Ryou looked worried; "should we answer it? It's rather early for visits."

"D'ya think it's that psycho Marik? Maybe he's tryin' a more direct approach."

"The door?" Tristan deadpanned. "That thing

isn't even in our world..."

Joey jabbed him in the side. "I knew that," still he gave Marik a curious look, like he might know; "You think it's safe?"

Marik shrugged, as another series of knocks sounded from the door.

"Doesn't look like they're leaving."

"I'm not answering," Duke said, sounding mostly asleep. "It's too cold. Also I don't want to die."

Joey stood up, looking very annoyed and with spiked up bed hair. "Bunch of wimps."

Marik sat up straighter when Joey left the room, and listened to footsteps and doors opening and loud voices which couldn't quite be distinguished as words. Next moment, Joey walked back into the bedroom, looking very angry.

"What is it?" Ryou looked scared.

"See for yerself," Joey sloped back into bed. "I'm sleeping till he leaves."

88

Ryou nibbled awkwardly on his toast, observing the tense atmosphere around him with a want to just leave and pretend he had nothing to do with his demented friends anymore.

Seto Kaiba stood like an arrogant statue in the kitchen, not bothering to take the seat that Yugi offered him, and not touching the drink that Tea had made for him. He kept his concentrated gaze on Yugi and no one else, and every word he spoke seemed to be suppressing an intense hatred. Ryou couldn't ever imagine him laughing.

"You expect me to offer you my jet to Egypt?" he said slowly. "You are all insane, or you must think I am."

Yugi looked inclined to agree, and he nodded earnestly. "It's just one last favour."

Since last night's escapade between the Pharaoh and Bakura, Yugi looked pale and tired. But his face was determined enough, and Tea was doing an enthusiastic job of feeding him and asking if he was alright every fifteen minutes or so.

"I already gave you my God Card," Kaiba said darkly. "Just because you win one stupid duel you think you freaks can ask me for anything?"

Joey leaned over the couch; he was far too annoyed by Kaiba to remain in the bedroom for too long after all; "freaks? Speak for yerself, Kaiba."

Yugi wasn't put off; "It's just like I asked on the phone…we'd really appreciate if we could use your jet…"

"To get to Egypt, right," Kaiba nodded like he was in a hurry. "You've explained this to me already, Yugi, and I still think you're crazy."

"Well I thought it was too," Yugi agreed. "but I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." he took a deep breath, "And to show I mean it, I'll return your God Card...and I'll give you my own."

Kaiba's eyes widened and there was an incredulous gasp from the couch.

"You _are _crazy, Yug," Joey said. "What're you thinking?"

"But," Yugi continued, seeing the wolfish look in Kaiba's eye, "I'll give them to you _after _the trip to Egypt."

Kaiba's expression shifted slightly into the realm of possibility. He looked around at his small audience, as though relishing the anticipation of it all.

"So...you all need to take this sudden urgent holiday to Egypt?" he asked, eyes resting on Bakura. "Even that...demon...thing?"

Bakura grinned at him; "Apparently I am a necessity."

"He'll be good," Yugi added quickly.

"Hm." Kaiba tapped his foot on the tiled floor. "I suppose I can afford a trip when the price is so tempting."

Yugi looked relieved. "thanks so much, Kaiba."

"But why can't you give me the cards now? Don't you trust me?"

Joey snorted. "No."

"It's complicated," Yugi said. "Very complicated."

"Can't you just mind your own business?" Joey glared at Kaiba.

"You don't trust me?" Kaiba sighed. "come on, Wheeler. Where am I gonna run off to with a rare card? It's not like I'm a very anonymous identity, Kaiba Corp is quite big, you know."

"Yeah, alright," Joey grimaced. "I get it. Now stop talking before your ego gets any bigger."

"You shouldn't be passing out the usual insults so readily," Kaiba warned. "I could withdraw this massive favour I seem to be giving you all at any moment."

"Don't even think about it-"

"Joey!" Serenity, always striving to be nearby when her brother and Kaiba were in close proximity, yanked him back.

A small and satisfied smile graced Kaiba's features, like it always did when he got one over on Joey. Ryou noticed Bakura smiling in the same sort of way. They could have made a wonderfully dastardly duo in another time, perhaps.

The Spirit leaned forwards on the couch, as though to get a better look at Kaiba.

"What're you staring at?" Kaiba growled, looking down at him full of disgust.

"You," Bakura's smile crept into a grin. "I remember you."

"Well congratulations. It's only been a few days."

Bakura's grin didn't falter; "Before that. A long time before that."

Yugi's eyes lit up with interest, and he neared the couch. "what do you remember?"

Bakura turned to look at Yugi, disinterest crossing all his features, before he saw the Puzzle again. "Why don't you ask your Pharaoh friend? I'm sure the two of you have a _lot_ of catching up to do."

Yugi frowned; "whatever the Pharaoh knows _I _know."

"Is that so?" Bakura turned away, and looked tired as he lay back onto the couch, shutting his eyes.

"You're all crazy," Kaiba decided. He turned back to Yugi. "When do you need my Jet?"

"As soon as possible really. We're kinda against time." he looked around and offered Marik a kind smile, who looked unsure and apprehensive next to Ryou.

"I can have it ready within a couple of days. I've got some business to attend to before then."

"Like babysitting little Mokuba?"

"Shut up, Wheeler."

Kaiba left the apartment in a swoop of his long coat, and Ryou felt Marik clutch his arm tightly.

"Two days…that's too long. With everything that's happening…"

Ryou placed a hand on his shoulder; "we can hold out."

Yugi was pacing the kitchen, seeming to share Marik's concern. He held the Puzzle up in his hands.

"Is everything alright, Yugi?" Tea ventured. "Maybe you should sit down-"

"I'm fine, Tea!"

It was strange to most everyone to see Yugi get irritable, especially at Tea. Yugi seemed shocked himself.

"I'm sorry," He said at once. "I didn't mean to shout."

Tea nodded; "it's okay. We're all feeling a bit on edge."

Tristan perked up from his hunt for food at the bottom of a cereal box. "I think we've all got cabin fever. Or more crappy apartment fever."

"Yeah," Joey agreed. "And when someone like Kaiba's been round it's enough to kill anyone's good mood."

"Why don't you just marry him," Serenity smirked, as her brother turned furious red. She tapped on the bedroom door. "C'mon Duke, have you finished applying all your guyliner, yet?"

Duke sauntered out of the bedroom and gave a longing look at the tv; "Tell me what happens in the next episode, my favourite demon guy," he smirked at Serenity; "and this face hardly needs makeup."

Serenity rolled her eyes, before hooking an arm around his. "C'mon, stupid. See you later, you guys."

As the young couple left everyone murmured vague goodbyes. Ryou thought Serenity and Duke had the right sort of idea. Perhaps acting so scared was some kind of advantage to Dark Marik? Ryou barely knew how mind links worked, or how to even prevent them, but he supposed positive thoughts must have a better effect than the negative...

He looked sideways at Marik, who was staring at the table, like he was concentrating on something extremely hard. He seemed to sense Ryou watching him, and the ongoing silence all about the room.

Yugi was sitting on the edge of the couch, still holding his Puzzle in that harsh way.

"It's too long," Marik said into the silence. "Two days is too long," his mouth moved into a snarl and he stared straight at the couch. "You know it's too long! Both of you know!"

"Marik..." Ryou started, trying to calm him.

"You know we can't wait! He'll come before then. He'll kill you..." his eyes lit on Bakura; "He'll kill us all, won't he!"

Bakura looked listless, bored even. "Don't worry yourself Marik-"

"-What were you doing before?" Marik demanded. "I saw it...this morning...tell me what you both know!"

Yugi gave him a confused look; "Marik, you don't understand-"

"That's why I'm asking!" the tomb keeper stood up, and Ryou was too slow to try and pull him back from his lunge toward the others. Luckily Tea wasn't, and she grabbed him round the wrists quite firmly.

"Don't hurt Yugi," She scolded. "He's been through enough!"

Marik seemed to come to his senses, with Tea's voice so close by. She let him go with some reluctance.

"It won't be fine," Marik said in an oddly calm voice. "How can you know we'll survive another two days of this? How can you...how could you even think that things'll be okay…after everything that's happened?" his eyes locked on the Puzzle, and Ryou had a feeling this wasn't just about a belated trip to Egypt anymore.

There was a touch of understanding in Yugi's eyes, and he started to protest, before Marik turned away and headed into the bedroom.

An uncomfortable silence hung all about the room, and nobody moved. Ryou teetered on his feet, and felt the faint tug of another link which still remained in him. He looked at the couch where Bakura was, the Spirit's expression was taut and directed at him.

"I'll go-" said Yugi.

"No, it's okay, I'll see him," Ryou interrupted, as Bakura's link fell away again.

888

Marik was kneeling on the floor, sniffing into his arms. He snapped his head up at Ryou, then his lip curled as he grabbed and pillow and flung it with force. Ryou ducked, but was caught on the arm.

"That was a bit uncalled for."

Marik squinted through the sunlight reflecting off Ryou. "Oh…sorry, I thought you were Bakura."

Ryou rubbed his arm. "oh, well. That explains everything," he said cheerfully. He knelt down next to Marik. "I'm afraid I'd never get my hair that spiky, though."

Marik sighed unevenly, he was still sobbing a bit, but managed to smile at Ryou then. "You do look like him."

"Except for the whole not being a demon of darkness thing," Ryou said.

"That too," Marik said like a laugh. "You're not demonic at all, Ryou."

"Glad to hear it." Ryou smiled.

Marik hugged his knees up to his chest, staring at the carpet.

"Sometimes I think it'd be easier if he was like you."

"Bakura?"

"Who else."

Ryou cleared his throat, hesitating before rubbing a hand soothingly on Marik's back. "I know it must be hard. But you have to remember, whatever happened…Bakura isn't..."

"I know he's not human," Marik finished starkly. "Don't think I'm so deluded."

"I know you're not," Ryou assured. He could see different emotion clouding Marik's wet eyes, something that was blocking reason. It was a look Ryou didn't have too much experience with.

He swallowed hard when Marik's hand rested light on his chest, and he stared at it, not sure where else to look.

"Erm, Marik…"

"You're not cold. You're like it's supposed to be," Marik murmured. "isn't that what it's supposed to be like?"

"It?" for some reason Ryou could see the flecks of violet shades in Marik's eyes. He couldn't imagine how they'd gotten this close... "what is _it_…exactly?" he wanted to back away, but was frozen in his inexperience and shock.

Marik tilted his head, and then Ryou saw a blur of skin before lips met his own. They pressed into him hard and urgent, like they were searching for something deeper. Ryou's head spun, his mouth felt stuck and unable to function.

As he fell back, he placed his hands on Marik's shoulders, pushing him away.

At the same moment the door opened, and Bakura stood there, his face paler than usual. Ryou looked up at him, licking sore lips. Marik made no move to get away from his compromising spot over Ryou, and a twitch of a sneer ghosted his features when he looked up at Bakura.

Bakura stared between them, then his gaze rested on Marik. "I thought you were in danger. I felt something through your link."

Marik's face fell, and he quickly hauled himself off Ryou. "There's no danger." he muttered as he stood up. He walked right up to Bakura, giving him a concentrated stare. "What did you feel?"

Bakura took a moment to respond, his face flashing uncertainty, and Ryou could feel it through their old link too.

"It felt like upset," the Spirit said. "You were upset."

Marik looked down at the Ring, hanging on Bakura's chest. "Must be broken, then. I'm _fine_."

He walked out the room, and Bakura watched him stiffly, before turning back round to Ryou.

Ryou scrambled upright, flustered and quite terrified. He started for the door and was horrified when the Spirit's hand caught his shoulder, halting him there.

"I need to talk to you," Bakura said.

"No, you really don't," Ryou laughed nervously. "I don't know anything very useful."

"Not yet, you don't," Bakura smiled.

"But I'm-"

"I tried to tell you before, through our link," Bakura carried on, like Ryou's voice was on mute or something. "It's important you listen closely."

Ryou considered the tail end of his argument, then just nodded. He was never going to hold his own against Bakura.

"Alright," he said, feeling nervous.

Bakura smiled a bit as he sat on the floor, level with Ryou but still somehow more superior, and just as threatening. Ryou thought he may as well have been all demon, for how nervous the creature made him.

"You're still scared?" Bakura sounded almost disappointed.

"Not half so much as I used to be," Ryou defended. "But you know, I'm not exactly used to the company of demons."

"You should be. I lived within you a fair while."

"Fair point," Ryou shifted a little. "What do you need to tell me, Bakura?"

"The top drawer of your desk contains something very important," Bakura explained.

Ryou looked automatically at the small drawers within the bedroom.

"No, I mean in your _own_ house. You'll need to go back there before we leave for Egypt."

"What's in there?" Ryou said slowly. He felt cold with the idea that Bakura knew his own house, his own _bedroom_ for that matter. It made sense though, of course Bakura would learn about his host's home, but Ryou didn't have to like it.

Bakura knew what he was thinking, it was obvious by the way his eyes narrowed and glinted in a sadistically amused sort of way.

"Your drawer contains the Millennium Eye. One of the items we, I mean the _Pharaoh_, needs for his silly expedition."

Ryou couldn't help gaping; "an _item_? Have you told anyone else?"

Bakura shook his head.

"_Why_?"

"Nobody asked," Bakura shrugged.

"Well...didn't it occur to you that it might be of some help to tell us? And why tell me? Why not tell Marik, or Yugi?"

"You think I would volunteer such information to the Pharaoh so gladly?"

Ryou sighed; "Well, if not for the Pharaoh then what about Marik?"

Bakura blinked and turned his gaze to the side. "I would certainly tell Marik. But it appears he wants little to do with me at the moment," he sounded regretful, and Ryou quickly remembered what had occurred only minutes before. He felt himself blushing.

"Bakura, I didn't-"

"Humans like to do that, don't they?" Bakura interrupted.

"Do what?" Ryou asked cautiously.

"To kiss," Bakura said the word in an awed way, like he was still trying to get to grips with it.

Ryou nodded; "Yes, but this isn't-"

"It makes them happy, doesn't it?"

"Yes, sometimes, but-"

Bakura turned round, his face neutral on Ryou's. "I'm glad Marik's happy then."

Ryou blinked at him. "No, you've got the wrong idea, Bakura..."

"Host, you should hurry to your house if you expect to make it back in time for Egypt."

"Don't call me that," Ryou was insulted, despite himself. It wasn't like he should go expecting friendly terms with a demon. "I'm not your host anymore. I'm nothing to do with you."

Bakura nodded, and looked amused. "Very well."

"Okay," Ryou felt his annoyance fizzle out. He sighed, pulling a hand through his hair. "I guess it makes sense you'd tell me," he was more resigned than exasperated. "Should I tell the others?"

Bakura looked uncertain. "Perhaps not. Better to just give me the item and pretend I had it all along."

"Well you kind of did," Ryou said. Then he realised something; "how...I mean...did you kill Pegasus?"

Bakura's expression did not change. "I needed the item."

Ryou felt cold with the words, and how easily Bakura could say them. He stood up and moved to the door, only looking back at Bakura for a second.

"You know, I don't envy when you have to tell Yami about all of this. You'll be right on his bad side."

"I was on his good side?" Bakura sneered. "Come back soon, _Ryou_."

8

In the kitchen Yugi was talking with Tea, whilst Joey and Tristan were arguing about something on the tv.

"Where's Marik?" Ryou asked.

"Gone to see his brother, I think." Tea said. "He was in a hurry."

Ryou felt himself blushing all over again. That was hardly a surprise. "Erm, I need to go after him...also I need to go home too."

"What? You don't want to come with us on this potentially life threatening adventure to Egypt?" Joey looked disappointed.

"Oh, yes of course I'm coming. But you know, I need to go pack the essentials first. Skin care, bath stuff...that kind of...stuff." Ryou realised he was a terrible liar.

"I thought that was more of a Duke thing to do," Tristan commented.

"Erm well. Make sure you're back before we leave. We can't wait," Yugi said. He looked at the bedroom door. "Is everything alright with Bakura? I think he sensed something through the Ring."

"Oh it's fine," Ryou was already heading out the door. "False evil alarm!"

Outside the apartment Ryou saw the speck of Marik in the distance. He thought about running after him, but then he thought about what he'd begin to say, and all the awkward embarrassment that would ensue.

Ryou liked Marik alright. Just not like that.

Tugging vaguely at his hair, Ryou doubted Marik really liked him that way either.

888

"You know I didn't mean it, don't you?"

"Yugi you've apologised a million times already. I know, I know," Tea smiled as she held his hand a few short seconds. "So stop worrying about it."

"I just got stressed out, with everything that's happening."

"Yes, _I know,"_ Tea laughed. She stood in the doorway, halfway out, and a bit coy. "Yugi?"

"Yeah?"

"Do me a favour and get some sleep. You worried me the other day."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that too."

Tea rolled her eyes. "Good night, silly."

Yugi shut his eyes but couldn't sleep. He just wasn't tired, as much as his body might protest he should be. Yami had done a great job of shattering it the other night, but all it had done was place more frantic questions in Yugi's mind.

He didn't know exactly what had happened between the Pharaoh and Bakura, but Yami had spared him enough of the details to know things were getting more serious. As if they weren't already.

Yugi tossed onto his side, feeling the heat of the Puzzle against his chest. The link was dormant but open incase Yugi needed to talk to the Pharaoh. So many times that day Yugi had thought about it; entering his Soul Room and talking properly to his other self...but he'd stopped himself at the last minute.

Whatever had happened the other night had drained Yami too, and Yugi knew he should be the strong one, or at least prove he could be.

Not very close to sleep, a scratching sound alerted him even more. Rubbing his eyes, Yugi sat up in bed and looked at the door, where the noise had sounded from. Somewhere in the kitchen.

Yugi imagined it likely that Joey had come out for a late night snack, as he tended to do. Or perhaps someone was just making a random trip to the bathroom.

Well, there was no harm in checking that it was one of those things. Yugi tiptoed across the bedroom and out into the open-plan kitchen. It was very dark and nobody was there. Yugi was almost disappointed.

Then the scratching sound again; but this time it was like wood on the ground, and Yugi looked immediately at the tiled kitchen floor. It was easy to see the head of white hair, stark against the darkness.

"Bakura?"

Yugi barely caught the shadow that flashed toward him, before feeling cold weight hard against his chest, and his back pressing up against the wall.

"Pharaoh," it was Bakura's voice, uneven and almost afraid in the dark.

A line of something cool swept onto Yugi's throat; "I'm not the Pharaoh," he said, realising he might be in real danger. "It's me, Yugi.."

"You?" as realisation dawned on his face, Bakura dropped back, the kitchen knife he'd been holding so vehemently slipping from his hand onto the floor.

His expression wasn't apologetic, but it was alarmed enough for Yugi to take it that way. His dark eyes wider than usual, and a forced, trembling leer crossed his mouth. The Spirit backed up a few steps then dropped back to the floor, bowing his head and resuming the same position Yugi had found him in.

Yugi rubbed his neck, where the Spirit's grip had been tight but thankfully brief. He felt the familiar pull of the Pharaoh, trying the request control of his body. But that was all it was; a request. Yugi ignored it and took a step toward Bakura. It wasn't that Yugi was angry with the Pharaoh, but he did want him to know he was capable when he wanted to be.

"Bakura, what's wrong?" he ventured, getting a little closer. "What're you doing up?"

"It's alright," Bakura muttered, not bothering to raise his head. "It's nearly gone now."

"What?" Yugi crouched down. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he could see Bakura's hands; clutching table legs. His fingers appeared shadowed, till Yugi realised it was something else. "You're bleeding."

Bakura tipped his head up, his eyes scornful. "It would go away much quicker if you tried not to speak to me, little Yugi."

He was patronising in a way which always prickled Yugi. He knew that the Spirit didn't think much of him; so far as he was concerned Yugi was just a vessel to carry a greater being, that of course being the Pharaoh.

Usually Yugi would pay the idea no heed. He knew he was as good as the Pharaoh; he had friends to tell him that, and the Pharaoh himself. And Bakura was manipulative and wanted Yugi to feel useless just because...well, because he was an evil Spirit.

Still sometimes it hurt. "I know more than you think," Yugi said with some defiance. "Dark Marik is trying to attack again, isn't he?"

Bakura shook his head, like he was irritated with Yugi; "It's under control." his voice was faint, breathless even, and Yugi noticed his marked hands curling and uncurling round the table legs again.

"If he gets through-"

"_He won't_," Bakura cut in, and then started to stand up. Halfway he grimaced and held his head, before sinking back onto the ground again. He looked exhausted and Yugi thought he might collapse. He edged forwards a little more, touched with how pitiful the Spirit appeared.

"Marik's right, we can't last two days...we'll see Kaiba tomorrow, tell him we have to go then..."

"No," Bakura growled, "We can't go then. My host...he has to join us."

"You mean...Ryou?" Yugi was confused.

"Yes,"

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind missing the trip. I don't think he's entirely keen on going, to be honest..."

"That hardly matters," Bakura glared properly at Yugi, "we must wait for him...it is important..." as his voice started to fade out, Bakura rested his head against the table leg, closing his eyes and sighing in an uneven way.

Yugi was close enough that he could see how awful the Spirit looked. It was pitiful, and Yugi's arm quivered, wanting to reach out and make sure he was alright, like he'd do with anyone else.

Better judgment made him hold back though, along with the protective pull of the Pharaoh's link inside of him, wanting to take over.

_It's okay. _Yugi told him. _Just let me handle it._

He didn't wait for the Pharaoh's response; he worried that Bakura could perhaps sense the Pharaoh's want to get out, and confront him himself. That couldn't happen; neither of them were in any state of mind for confrontations.

Slowly Yugi stood up, and shuffled back toward the kitchen sink. He kept his eyes on Bakura, as though he might be a wild animal that might bolt or attack at any moment.

Bakura stayed still, and Yugi poured water into a bowl before crouching cautiously back beside him.

"Here," Yugi held out a cloth, wet with the water. "For your hands."

Bakura looked at the item warily, not moving.

"C'mon. They look a bit sore to me."

Bakura made a derisive noise, but still didn't move. Yugi frowned, then reached out, ignoring the surge of alarm within the Puzzle, Yami's silent declaration that Yugi was mad and shouldn't be doing this at all. Perhaps he was mad, but Yugi was always game to try, if it was for the good.

He held Bakura's wrist and pulled it, away from the table leg. It was cold and pulsed with something strange, but Yugi wasn't too concerned with that. He watched Bakura's face, which turned toward him, shocked and indignant all at once.

"Yugi..." he warned.

Yugi placed the hand quickly in the water, wrapping the cloth around it.

"Just keep it in there," he ordered, watching the blood pool out, colouring the water.

Bakura watched it too, something akin to fascination on his face.

"Does it hurt much?" Yugi asked.

Bakura pulled his gaze away from the water, and looked at Yugi with searching, confused eyes. Almost like he was annoyed by a simple puzzle which was taking too long to figure out.

"Why would you do this?" he asked.

"This?" Yugi gestured to the bowl. "You're hurt."

Bakura blinked, his eyes focussing on the Puzzle round Yugi's neck. It shone dimly in the dark, but there was an energy about it that told Yugi the Pharaoh was on edge, and he was sure Bakura felt it too.

"You helped us," Yugi explained slowly. "I mean, you helped save me, from Dark Marik. I'm grateful for that..I want to help as well."

"You are a burden, not a help," Bakura said. "Another way the darkness can get out."

Yugi was insulted; "You think I_ wanted_ that?"

Bakura looked back at the pool of bloody water. He took his hand out slowly, veins of red water trickled over his wrist and down his arm. "You would...do most anything for the Pharaoh, wouldn't you, Yugi?"

The question was so unrelated that Yugi stumbled over his words, defensive when he needn't be. "What...?"

"You would even give up your God Cards to help him," Bakura carried on, eyes still intent on his bloodied hand.

"That isn't anything," Yugi said, "compared to my friends."

Bakura glanced at him then, his eyes full of fascination. "I think...when I look at the Pharaoh's face, that he might die for you, Yugi."

Yugi swallowed hard, a pang hitting his stomach and making him hot. "Why would you say that?" he asked quietly.

Bakura took a moment to respond, his face thoughtful; "it is interesting, how he cares about you," he wiped the cloth over his hand, "though I am finding it quite difficult to understand."

"Well, he is my friend," Yugi told him. "One of my best friends, I mean."

"Is that what it is, Yugi? Is that a friend's purpose?"

"To die?" Yugi was a bit horrified. "I'd hope not. But you can care very much about someone..." he noticed the wistful look in Bakura's eyes, like he was thinking about something else. Yugi caught Bakura's other hand, which was still covered in blood, before putting it in the bowl.

Bakura barely batted an eyelid. "The Pharaoh and I are alike," he said. "I believe we both hate such comparisons between us, though."

Yugi glanced down at the Puzzle. The presence of Yami was still strong, he'd have been happier in control, to be sure. But he had calmed down a great deal now, as though he was content just listening to Bakura too.

Yugi smiled cautiously at Bakura. "I think maybe you should take the comparison as a compliment. Both of you."

Bakura gave Yugi a vaguely surprised look. He leaned back against the table, taking his hand out of the water. Yugi offered him the cloth again, and Bakura wrapped it about his hand slowly, his face betraying that it might not hurt.

"You should go lie down," Yugi suggested.

"No," Bakura said simply.

"Well," Yugi settled onto the floor a bit more comfortably. "I'll stay here, for a little while then."

Bakura shook his head; "it won't do any good."

"It'll make me feel better."

The cold chill of the small kitchen was little deterrent. For some reason Yugi felt as accomplished as he'd felt in any victorious duel. Just knowing that the Pharaoh could see this, that he could handle himself just fine, with _Bakura _no less, was satisfaction enough. He leaned back against a cupboard and watched the Spirit.

"I think," Bakura sighed, and rested his head against the table leg, closing his eyes. His mouth curved a smile; "...I think I'm understanding a little better."

888

A new chapter? Well if anyone is still reading (!) I am working on the next chapter right now, so think of this as Chapter 13 Part 1...or something. And the next chapter is the pay-off. I was just going to bunch them both together but it felt a bit long winded even for me! also I'm so sorry there has been a lack of updates on this story...i'm going to work at finishing this now though, promise! and believe it or not, there are not too many chapters to go... action happens soon.

Please do review!

.


	14. Complications

**Chapter 14 **

**Complications **

"Did someone get a case of the munchies last night?"

Bakura opened his eyes, immediately met with the dull and familiar thrum of a headache, courtesy of his latest little spat with dark Marik. He looked up, only to find Joey peering at him with some amusement.

"I didn't know the kitchen was such a great place for a kip," the blond said.

"It's not," Yugi stood up quickly, rubbing his head and looking a bit rough too.

Bakura made a point of avoiding his concerned gaze, instead concentrating on standing up, which appeared to be a feat in itself. His legs ached, like they might be bruised, and he head spun as he half staggered to the nearby chair in the lounge.

Marik was sitting on the couch, just opposite him, his expression quite tense. Bakura suspected the tomb keeper might hate him now, after the strange incident with the Pharaoh. The realisation made Bakura feel tired, like he'd wasted a good deal of effort on something that had come to nothing.

Though he tried not to, he kept remembering Marik and Ryou together in the bedroom. The memory was annoying in it's prominence, but there it was. Bakura wasn't sure if it was yet another side effect of this wretched mortal body.

"So are you going to tell us why you decided to have late night snacks in the kitchen this morning?" Tristan enquired innocently.

"And more importantly why we weren't invited?" Joey added.

"Hardly snacking," Yugi cringed. He looked at Bakura, as though waiting for him to elaborate. But Bakura had no such urges to do so. Somehow he liked the idea that Marik might wonder about him and Yugi. And somehow it made sense to feel a bit vengeful.

"Well," Joey cleared his throat, as though to diffuse the tension. "at least everyone's still alive, which is saying somethin', considering the situation."

Bakura lay his head slowly on the arm of the chair, waiting for his headache to subside a little more. The tense pull at the back of his mind was Marik's link, and Bakura was finding it harder to sense it this past day or two. He couldn't decide if it was because he was tired or Dark Marik had weakened him so much. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

"Soon this whole situation will be over with," Tea said rather cheerily, giving everyone cups of tea and pieces of toast.

"Assuming the Egypt plan is the right one," Joey said. "Yug, do you even know what you're doing, here?"

Yugi was crunching on his toast, face creased with thought; "I don't know what else we can do."

Tristan came into the room, grumbling to himself and with a sleepy face; "Ryou's a genius. I should have made my excuses and left too when I had the chance."

Joey smirked; "What's the matter? Duke and Serenity getting cosy again?"

"What do you think?" Tristan pulled a face.

Bakura lifted his head; "Ryou will be coming with us. He's not staying behind."

Tristan shook his head; "Then he really is crazy."

"You don't have to come along," Tea pointed out.

"But I want to," Tristan folded his arms. "It's what good friends do."

And just in case Serenity changes her mind, right?" Joey grinned.

Tristan glared at him. "Sometimes I actually want to kill you."

Marik stretched out on the couch, like he'd been oblivious to all the conversation. He stood up and looked round at everyone; "I'm going to see my brother and sister at the hospital. I think Odion is leaving today." his gaze lingered on Bakura, and for just a second the Spirit felt their link open and fluctuate. It looked like Marik wanted to say something, but he held off at the last minute.

Bakura felt cold with the disappointment of it all. He rubbed his head and watched the tomb keeper leave. Now he was alone with humans that didn't really trust him, and Ryou wasn't even there to offer his awful burnt toast. Bakura was surprised to find himself noticing his old, hapless host's absence so much. It wasn't that he really cared…he just missed seeing him there...

"_Bakura_,"

Bakura jolted, then noticed that Tea was standing very close to him, her eyes reflecting some concern.

"What?" he said cagily.

"Food," she pushed a plate into his hands. "Eat up."

Bakura did as he was told, only because he was starving and his body seemed incredibly thankful for it. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to these mortal rules. Eating, sleeping, it all seemed such a waste of time when so much more important stuff was happening.

He lay his head back down and watched Yugi talking to everyone else. After a while Yugi's words became fainter and harder to make out; just a hum of noise accompanied by other voices every now and then. Bakura noticed Duke's annoyed expression a few times, and the way Tea fussed over Yugi, making sure he was alright, no doubt…

8

Bakura opened his eyes. He couldn't remember closing them, and he looked about to see Tristan sitting on the couch opposite him, and no one else.

"The others are all out," Tristan answered his confused face. "I was put on demon-sitting duty…again."

Bakura straightened up, subconsciously feeling for the Ring, which always provided a source of comfort these past few days. He must have fallen asleep, and he berated himself for doing it so easily, in front of everyone like that.

"How're you feeling?" Tristan asked. "I heard you had a pretty rough time last night."

Bakura took a moment to recall it; Yugi sitting there with him even though he didn't have to. But mostly the pain in his head, still trying to get out.

"Yes," he nodded. "The other…Dark Marik is getting stronger."

"I know it," Tristan said like it was obvious. Then he seemed to hesitate; "I'm supposed to ring, in case anything happens again." he held up a cell phone, like Bakura needed the elaboration.

Bakura grinned faintly. "You only stayed last time because of your friends, Duke and Serenity."

"So?" Tristan bristled.

"Are you not over it yet?"

Tristan grimaced; "do you think I'd admit it to you, even if I wasn't?"

Bakura shrugged. "I don't know why you would."

Tristan made a noise of frustration, then spoke, almost like some invisible force was urging him to confess all; "it's not…it's not that I didn't think Duke liked her…I just didn't think she'd return it, you know?"

Bakura stared hard at him, recognising the emotion into the human's eyes, the way he spoke…It sort of alarmed him, not so much that he realised he could relate to Tristan, but just that he could relate on _any_ human level.

He thought understanding them was the hardest part, and yet here he was remembering Marik and Ryou in the bedroom, an odd stinging in the middle of his stomach, telling him it was awful, and making him care.

"I think I know," he said. "though I don't want to."

"Maybe Joey's right…I'm just deluding myself into thinking I have a chance," Tristan carried on, not really hearing Bakura. "but there is always the chance, isn't there?" he stopped then, and started to laugh; "What am I doing? Why am I telling you all this?"

Bakura couldn't answer, there was no chance to, as the door suddenly opened and everyone poured in, noisy conversation mostly happening between Joey and Tea, who were arguing about an overpriced drinks store.

Last to enter were Marik, Ishizu and Odion. Bakura tensed in his chair, gripping the edges and finding his link with Marik. The tomb keeper seemed happy; stood between those that loved him. Bakura supposed that made sense.

But Odion and Ishizu looked at him at once; their expression complete contrasts. Odion full of mistrust, as he took a seat, making little eye contact with anyone. And then Ishizu, who watched Bakura with an intent that would remain there, as everyone else became background noise to Bakura's ears.

Only Yugi took a moment to talk to him, bending close so that their items clinked together.

"Are you alright, Bakura?" he asked.

Bakura knew what he meant, and nodded. "Nothing has happened."

Yugi nodded. "Good." And that was all.

A strain of want came over Bakura when he glanced more than occasionally at Marik. He just wanted to be close, to remember his warmth all over again. Somehow it made him feel stronger.

But Marik didn't seem interested, and Bakura took his moment to slip into an empty bedroom, away from the noise of family reunions, happiness he could not understand. He held the Ring hard on his hand.

"One more night," he murmured, thinking of Egypt and closing his eyes.

When he was on the edge of sleep, Bakura was alerted by a soft knock on the door. An odd optimistic part of him expected to see Marik. Maybe he'd come to say he wasn't angry anymore. Bakura hoped so; then things would be easier to cope with again.

He was not so much disappointed as he was confused when Ishizu appeared. She was holding the Millennium Necklace against her chest.

Bakura stood up, feeling defensive for some reason. "yes?" he asked.

"Don't be scared," she advanced slowly into the room. "I just want to talk."

Bakura scoffed; "You think I'm _scared_? You must know so little about me."

"I might know more than you think, too."

"Cut your cryptic nonsense," Bakura shook his head. He found himself, however subconsciously, backing up, away from her.

Ishizu's expression was kind, which annoyed him. Bakura was sick of kindness; he only cared about it when it was Marik.

"You look tired, Bakura," Ishizu said, in a calm voice. She closed the gap a little more between them, and raised the Necklace too, almost so Bakura had no other choice but to look at it.

"You know something…of the future, don't you?" he said slowly.

"I know of a possible future, but this sort of thing is never written in stone," she leaned forwards then, a tiny smile on her face.

For a second Bakura recognised the trust in her eyes, and the way she resembled Marik. Then he felt her arms grasping him all around, into some tight and uncompromising sort of embrace.

Ishizu whispered close to his ear; "I must thank you, for protecting my brother like this."

Bakura didn't move; he stared over her shoulder and absorbed her human heat; how he was starting to need it more and more…

Ishizu broke away then, her smile still trained on Bakura, however careful it might have been. Then she pulled the Necklace off her neck and held it out to him.

Bakura gave both her and the item a guarded look; "the Pharaoh is right outside."

"I want you to keep a hold of it." she caught his hand, simultaneously placing the Necklace round his neck. She looked at it, hanging there against the well worn Ring, with some satisfaction.

Bakura stared at her. "I want to know" he said, almost too quietly. "What is the future you have seen?"

Ishizu was already walking to the door. She glanced over her shoulder at Bakura, her expression earnest. "The one I want."

888

It was too cold. Way too cold.

Marik tried to curl the sleeping bag around him tighter, until he found it was not there anymore. Absently he wondered if Joey had took it, or Duke perhaps…till the cold raced through him again, telling him to wake up.

He opened his eyes, but it was too dark. A dark that he remembered too well, like smoke and hurting his eyes. A familiar dread crept over him, and he cried out and scrambled back on the hard stone floor.

"Marik," Bakura was at his side before he could properly gather his bearings. "what are you…you must get out of here,"

Marik grabbed Bakura's shirt, wild in his confusion and fright; "What…is this a nightmare? Am I having a nightmare…please tell me it is…"

Bakura held his arms tight, icy hands injecting the pinch of reality Marik needed. Then he blinked and focused on Bakura better. The Spirit looked frightened, in a way Marik hadn't seen before. And his breathing was heavy, as though he'd run a marathon.

"Bakura…" Marik looked all about them, noticing the curling dark cloud growing above their heads. "why am I here again?"

Bakura shook his head, then pulled an item off from around his neck. He pressed it into Marik's hands.

"You can use this, to get out of here," he told him.

Marik stared down at the item, the Necklace. "Ishizu gave this to you."

"Yes. You must use it to escape."

Marik frowned, "and what are you going to do? I won't leave you here!"

Bakura shoved him back; "_you must_."

Hardly stung by the move, Marik held his ground. "no, I'll help fight…we both have an item, we can be stronger-"

At the same moment a wave of the clouding darkness fell over them, and Marik found himself on the floor, shaking terribly and drained of whatever strength he'd had. Sickness touched the back of his throat, along with emotions he thought he'd left behind. Such anger, hatred, pulsing through his veins and turning his fists white…

He felt Bakura's hand on his shoulder, the Spirit was kneeling next to him.

"It wants to hurt you," Bakura said in a soft voice. "in this way."

Marik peered up at Bakura, seeing the strain on the Spirit's face, like he was fending off another attack.

"What should I do?" Marik whispered, and gripped Bakura's hand hard.

"Use the item," Bakura quickly pulled it round Marik's neck. "it shouldn't be too difficult for you, remember how you used the Rod."

Marik felt himself nod, even though he didn't want to. "are you going to be okay?"

Bakura smiled roguishly. "why do you ask such stupid questions?"

Marik locked gazes with the Spirit a moment more, before shutting his eyes tight and finding the Necklace's glow against him, emitting through his palm and making him sick with it's power. He felt Bakura's hand release his own, and then he was gasping, sticky with sweat in his sleeping bag.

8

"Bakura!" he shot up and scrambled out of the bedroom and into the lounge, knowing where to find the Spirit.

Bakura lay on the couch, the Ring glowing blindingly round his neck. Marik grabbed him, started to shake him hard, not knowing what else to do.

"Bakura, wake up! Wake up!" he cried, feeling useless as Bakura remained as still as ever. "come on, you said you'd be okay, so don't tell me you're lying!"

There was nothing else left to do. Marik looked at the bedroom door where Yugi slept, and thought nothing else of it. He ran into the bedroom, and shook the boy awake.

Yugi rubbed his eyes; "what's wrong?"

"Bakura,"

It was all Marik had to say. The Puzzle began to glow and suddenly Marik was staring up at the Pharaoh's determined face.

In the lounge, they found Joey and Tristan sat round Bakura too, awake and concerned.

"It's that psycho Marik, isn't it?" Tristan guessed.

"Is he coming?" Joey asked fearfully.

"Not if it can be helped," Yami noticed the Necklace and Ring around Bakura. "he's using two items-"

"Not anymore," Marik shook his head; "He gave the Necklaces' power to me, so I could get out."

Yami nodded, like he understood, then he crouched close to the Spirit, holding the Puzzle in his hands. Marik watched with some desperate fascination as Yami seemed to lock into Bakura's mind; the Puzzle glowing fiercely and seeming to encourage the glow of the Ring.

As the light of the items seemed to intensify Yami made a gasping sound, before falling against Bakura, like he'd been knocked unconscious.

"This can't be good!" Joey cried, moving to grab Yami.

"_No, leave him_," Marik said, unsure why he should.

"Are you mental? Now they're both unconscious!"

"It's okay," Marik swallowed, "I think…I think this is how it happens…"

Tristan stared between them nervously; "what if it shouldn't happen like this?"

"We'll wait," Marik told him, trying to keep his nerves in check.

Wasn't that all they could really do now, anyway? Just wait.

Joey paced the room, back and forth, his face wrought with anxiety. "Maybe we should get Tea…she's always good at calming these kinda situations…"

Tristan sat at the breakfast table, wringing his hands; "or perhaps we should ring a hospital?"

"Somehow I don't think doctors are that well versed in curing ancient spirit attacks," Joey said.

Marik couldn't consider anything. He just had to hope that things would work out, and Bakura would wake up. That was the main thing.

Someone coughed; and Yami's body shook as he came round, slowly lifting himself off Bakura. Joey and Tristan rushed to him.

"Are you okay, man?" Tristan asked.

Yami gave him a dazed look. "Better," he patted the Puzzle. "Yugi's safe." then he turned to Bakura, and slowly lifted him up. The movement roused the Spirit, and Bakura opened his eyes, coughing harshly.

Yami bent close to his face. "are you alright?"

Bakura blinked at him, as though he was used to their close proximity. Marik was too worried to care about that anymore though.

"Yes," the Spirit muttered, and closed his eyes again.

Yami replaced him on the couch, and looked at his small audience with a grim face. "tomorrow can't come soon enough."

8

Bakura came round coughing and heaving, like he might throw up. But Marik felt their link fall back into place with some relief, even if Bakura's end was rather weak. He grabbed the Spirit's hand, injecting it with some warmth.

"Is it time?" Bakura asked hoarsely, when he'd composed himself.

Marik shook his head. "still a few more hours till morning. Think you can hold out?"

Bakura struggled upright, his eyes adjusting to the dark of the room, and Marik, who was sitting so close.

"Are you alright?" Bakura asked at once.

"Of course I am," Marik smiled weakly. "when I've got stupid demon spirits protecting me."

Bakura returned the smile, then rubbed his temple, wincing a bit.

"Are _you _alright?" Marik tightened his hold on the Spirit's hand. "You worried me so much-"

"I've already told you-"

"Yeah I know, stop doing that," how Marik wished it could be that easy. He sighed then, resigned to his own hopelessness. "I don't know why I…I keep shutting you out."

It's understandable." Bakura said.

"No it's not, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, about you and the Pharaoh…"

Bakura looked confused, then shook his head; "No, I can understand, if you are wary of me now. The darkness is so close…closer to you when you are near me."

Marik realised what he meant, and felt himself shivering. "Is that how it happened? Is that how he managed to pull me back into your Soul Room?"

"I think so," Bakura said thoughtfully. "He is trying different tactics. Trying to bring you to him, I suppose."

"Oh great. Best news all day."

"It's not so bad. Only a slight complication."

"_Slight complication_?" Marik stared at him; "You're never going to give up, are you? Nothing ever…gets to you, does it?"

Bakura looked at him for a long moment, then tipped his head to his chest, where the Ring and the Necklace still were.

"I think I owe your sister my gratitude for this." he held the Necklace up a bit.

Marik touched it rather tentatively, and met Bakura's gaze with a small smile. "yeah, I think I do too."

Bakura kept watching him, his expression so lost in uncertainty that Marik almost wondered if he was sensing another attack. Then Bakura spoke, like he was unsure of his words;

"When I noticed you with Ryou, I think…I think that got to me," his eyes moved to his lap in an agitated way. "I think so," he nodded, almost to himself. "that's what I meant. All I meant."

Marik felt himself quivering for some reason. "Really?" was all he could think to ask.

"Yes."

Bakura looked up quickly, his expression apprehensive. Then, in a careful motion,

he held out his hand and touched Marik's face.

Those fingers were cold, as they always were, but Marik felt like he'd been warmed somehow. Bakura's eyes were almost kind in the semi darkness of the room, and his mouth became a tepid smile. The link grew between them, and Marik was encouraged by it.

He leaned forwards, and placed a hand round Bakura's head. Bakura barely moved, his expression dropping into a vague realisation along with his hand on Marik's face. Marik felt the nervous tremor of the Spirit's link.

"It's okay," Marik said. "It's easy."

He leant the rest of the way in, the tiny gap between them disappearing.

The Spirit's lips felt soft and cool, but Marik was not bold enough to let it be anything more than a moment. He broke away, almost fearing Bakura's reaction.

He was touched to see Bakura's eyes were closed, and his mouth was parted in some sort of anticipation for what might have happened next. Marik wished he hadn't moved away. He reached out a hand, but Bakura opened his eyes at the same moment.

The Spirit crept back on the couch, putting a hand over his mouth as he started to cough again, batting away Marik's concerned approach.

"Bakura-"

"I'm… very tired," Bakura interrupted quietly. He reached out a hand then, and tapered it along Marik's arm.

It barely touched him, but it was enough to make Marik's skin dance with the sensation.

"Marik, will you stay here?" Bakura asked.

"Of course, whatever you want."

"I mean, so it's warm."

Marik stared at the couch, where Bakura curved into it, and realised what the Spirit wanted.

He slid onto the couch and lay facing Bakura, their faces so close that Marik could see the shades of his dark eyes, and the cracks of his lips, and he knew he still wanted them.

He moved a hand onto the sharp curve of Bakura's hip and rested it there. Bakura watched him, unblinking, like he was entranced. His lips quivered, as though he might speak.

Marik shifted closer; he only needed to move a tiny bit before their torsos pressed together and Marik could feel the jut of ribs and the beat of a heart there, close to his own. He heard Bakura make a small humming sound, like pleasure, and then he felt an arm, delicate on his own hip, cold but Bakura, so it didn't matter.

"Is it warmer?" Marik whispered, his voice shaking just a bit.

Bakura nodded against him, and closed his eyes as he spoke. "Much more than that."

8888

Notes: So a kind of sort of kiss. Yes I'm a nasty tease…I can't help it!

Well next chapter we're on Kaiba's jet and stuffs going down!

I hope to update before Christmas, but it's a very busy time. In the meantime, if I do not, have fantastic holidays everyone. Keep well! =)


	15. Weight Of Darkness

Notes: bit of guy on guy related stuff going on in this chapter. But you know it's all above board/pg-13. Your imagination can do the rest ;)

888

888

**Chapter 15**

**Weight of Darkness**

As he woke up, Bakura had never felt such a thing before. A warmth spread all about his body, not just for a few minutes, as he was used to, but a constant, and intense in it's heat.

He hardly dared open his eyes, in case for some reason it drove the heat away, or perhaps it was all some very vivid dream. Not that he had much experience with those.

Still, he opened his eyes.

Marik's eyelashes flickered, and Bakura could have counted each and every one of them. He turned his head just a little, to see Marik's arm hooked right around him, and his leg too, twisted over his own and planting a little bit of the warmth there.

Mostly though Bakura could detect the pounding near his chest, how the sensation vibrated against him in such a steady and lulling way. He bowed his head and pressed into the hollow of Marik's neck, detecting another pulse of life, and just wanting to stay like that for as long as possible.

It wasn't possible really though. His throat was dry with a sickness he remembered from last night, and his headache was coming back unrelenting, making him groan in some discomfort.

Marik was stirred by it.

"…you okay?" he spoke in a sleep filled voice, and his grip round Bakura loosened just a little.

Bakura tipped his head, away from the warmth. His head felt fuzzy. "I'm okay," he said, hoping he appeared half that way.

He squirmed. Suddenly being mostly awake made everything difficult and strange. Perhaps Marik would feel the same, and wanted to get out of this compromising position as soon as possible.

Bakura started to sit upright. He rubbed his eyes and felt a surge of that sickness rise in the back of his throat.

"Bakura!"

Something must've happened, though Bakura could hardly imagine what. Marik's hand was round his back, holding him upright; he couldn't remember falling back either. Everything felt weird, and his mind was quite mixed up.

"I'll clean this up,"

Bakura followed Marik's gaze, blankly seeing the mess all over his own chest. Oh, he _had_ been sick.

He watched as Marik got a towel and some water, and then the tomb keeper started wiping him down. Bakura rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He wished this body didn't react so badly to things. It certainly wasn't doing his dignity any favours.

Marik didn't seem to care though.

"You still feel cold," Marik said, placing a hand on Bakura's forehead. He frowned, mostly to himself. "How am I supposed to know if you're running a fever or something?"

"I feel okay," Bakura thought it necessary to say. "I don't know why…this happened," he wrinkled his nose at the mess Marik was still cleaning up.

"You might want to take the shirt off, get a change of clothes,"

"Okay."

"Bakura?" Marik sounded close, and Bakura wondered when it was that he'd leant back onto the couch again and closed his eyes. Not that it mattered, it had already happened now.

"Mm," he said.

"I'm sorry," the tomb keeper sounded sad. "I'm sorry I made this thing, and it's doing all this to you. I'm sorry I'm this way."

Bakura blinked at him, feeling scornful, but not at Marik.

"This isn't your fault," he recalled Ishizu, standing in the bedroom with him just the other day, and how hopeful she'd looked. "this is just how things happen."

Marik put his hands round Bakura's. "you make it all sound so simple."

8

The autumn air cut through the group, as they reached the stretch of grey that harboured Seto Kaiba's jet.

"Fancy," Joey snorted, not looking impressed at all.

"Alright! Unexpected vacation here I come," said Duke, swinging a bunch of suitcases about him.

Yugi was watching his cell phone anxiously; "We can't wait any longer. We'll have to go without him."

"We can't," Bakura said. He put a hand on the cell phone; "call him again."

"We already tried about twenty times," Joey sighed. "face it, Ryou just ain't the hot climate type. With that complexion, who can blame him?"

Bakura stared resolutely at Yugi, trying to appeal to a wiser judgement perhaps. It didn't seem so bizarre, doing that now. Not when he knew Yugi could be strong in his own way, sitting in dark kitchens, daring to ask Bakura things, like he might get away with it. Bakura kind of respected that.

Yugi seemed conflicted though; "what's so important about him coming-"

"He's here!" Marik said loudly. He wrapped a hand round Bakura's arm, squeezing it. "see, I knew he'd come."

"So you did," Bakura relaxed. As Ryou's lithe figure got closer, he sighed and smiled vaguely in Marik's direction.

888

Only an hour into the flight, and Ryou was already unhappily the most acquainted with the jet's on-air toilet.

He stared at the tiny sink, trying to stave off sickness, and trying to imagine he was on a bus, or perhaps a magical flying bus.

Lord, he was terrible at flying.

He heard a tap on the door, Marik's awkward voice; "you okay in there, Ryou?"

"Yes," Ryou said through his teeth, clutching the sink a little harder. "Just…give me a minute. Or twenty."

"…alright." Marik sounded reluctant, and concerned.

Ryou smiled absently. It was a nice relief there appeared to be no awkwardness between them, after whatever had happened before.

When Marik had greeted him he'd just been happy he'd turned up. No more surprise kisses, _definitely_ no proclamations of love…

Ryou was entirely relieved about that. He wasn't the type to go breaking peoples hearts. Besides, he noticed the way Marik looked at Bakura.

Ryou recalled the shock he'd felt upon seeing the Spirit a few hours ago. It had only been a couple of days, and yet it didn't take a genius to know that Bakura was in some trouble.

Through the link he'd felt it too, when he'd been away from the group and panicking to his father about golden eyes (turned out he'd given Ryou's room a good tidy out since he'd been away, leaving the Eye in his pants drawer). Something unpleasant had pulsed though his link even then, and he had guessed Bakura was under attack.

It didn't really hurt, not physically. But he didn't like the idea Bakura might be in such danger. The Spirit really wasn't that bad. Least when he wasn't busy trying to kill people.

"Not much of a flier?"

"Huh?" Ryou looked up, seeing another reflection in the portaloo mirror.

Bakura was watching him, a grin on his face.

"I could have been…_doing something_," Ryou said, feeling embarrassed.

Bakura slipped properly into the toilet, closing the door behind him.

"Were you?"

"Well…no," Ryou considered the sink. He didn't like Bakura thinking he was being sick.

Bakura folded his arms. "Really?"

"Okay, I'm not a great flier," Ryou noticed his smirking. "it's not funny. I feel awful."

"Yes, you do look it,"

Ryou looked Bakura up and down none too subtly. "You're one to talk."

"Thanks,"

"I mean," Ryou amended. "It's not surprising, with everything that's happening…" He didn't bother to finish. If Bakura was pissed off with him there was little Ryou was going to be able to do about it. Considering the possible consequences, Ryou found he wasn't exactly afraid anymore.

"You shouldn't feel too bad," Bakura told him. "I imagine our link still allows you to experience some of my feelings, even if you don't wish to."

Ryou straightened, turning away from the mirror to look at the Spirit properly. The harsh light of the toilet made his skin look waxy and his eyes purplish, though Ryou wondered if that was already the case.

"Are you feeling sick too, then?" he asked.

"Another side effect," Bakura didn't seem keen to elaborate. He moved almost awkwardly, as though he didn't really want to look at Ryou.

Ryou suddenly understood why the Spirit had even bothered invading the toilet in the first place.

He felt in his pocket; "I got it."

As soon as he'd taken the Eye out, Bakura was snatching it away from him.

"Thanks," he added, as a lofty afterthought.

"Welcome," Ryou turned back to the sink.

He supposed Bakura might leave, but the Spirit seemed more interested in watching him in that intent uncomfortable way of his. Ryou took comfort in knowing they were on a jet, so any potential rampage should be quite restricted.

"I might be sick again, and it won't be pretty," he said.

"I don't imagine it would be."

Ryou cleared his throat, watching Bakura out the corner of his eye. He was no good at recognising reactions, particularly those of Bakura, whose mostly ranged between deadpan and sarcasm. At worst anger.

Now though, Bakura looked like he had words on the tip of his tongue, but wasn't sure how he was supposed to say them.

Ryou had no doubt what it was about.

"I don't…it wasn't anything, really," he said. "I mean back at the apartment."

Bakura watched the sink, his face neutral.

Ryou considered his words. "You should know. Sometimes people, _humans_, they do these weird things. But only because they really like you."

"Marik likes you," Bakura said factually.

"Yes, but…he really likes you. I mean…_really _likes you." Ryou stared at the sink too. "You know what I mean?"

Bakura's expression was hard in concentration, as though attempting to process what Ryou had said.

Then he smiled, and it was almost shy, and definitely extremely odd on his face. "I appreciate you telling me."

"I don't really like Marik," Ryou added quickly. "I mean, of course I _like _him…just not like that. I _really_ like him as a friend, just not _really_ like him the other way. You know, that way?"

Bakura raised a brow. "that way?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm just going to shut up now. Or be sick. Whichever happens first."

"Okay,"

Ryou concentrated on the sink again, sort of lulled by his faint link with Bakura for some reason. Then it occurred to him just how bizarre all of this was. Only a few days ago he had been quite terrified of Bakura, and now he was sitting in a tiny toilet offering him up mysterious millennium items like they might be candy.

"This is all a bit strange isn't it?" he looked at Bakura wryly.

"You could have just given me the Eye, before we got on the jet," Bakura bypassed the question. Perhaps he didn't understand it. "What made you join us?"

"Besides the amazing view and the free unwanted adventure?" Ryou wondered with faint sarcasm. "well, maybe I'm not so wimpy as you give me credit for. And anyway," he dared a smirk at Bakura. "Maybe you're just not a good flier either."

He surprised himself, feeling less fearful as he was amused, when Bakura pulled a face. Lord, he even felt himself laughing, even if he did want to throw up as well.

"Hey," at that moment the door swung open, and Joey was standing there, out of breath and excited about something. "you guys, you have to come _right now. _Freaky stuffs happening."

"Joey, you might have knocked. We could have been doing something," Ryou frowned.

"Together?" Joey was disturbed. "Wouldn't that be some sort of weird masturbation type thing?…um I don't even wanna think about it," he pulled them out the toilet. "c'mon, freaky stuff!"

88

Joey was quite right about freaky stuff. Ryou didn't think he'd ever get used to it.

Kaiba's jet had a small lobby area where everyone was currently gathered, including the CEO himself. He stood a marked distance away from the group, only occasionally looking over, as though bored out of his mind.

There was one extra person in the room. He was turbaned, with clear blue eyes that settled on everyone for much longer than they needed to. Ryou didn't recognise him at all, and he heard Bakura made a derisive sound next to him.

"I've returned to offer you the final Millennium Item," the stranger announced, as though aware of the newcomers in the room.

Ryou edged close to Marik, whispering in his ear; "Did you lot make a new friend whilst I was gone?"

"No, that's Shadi. He's supposed to be all wise and all seeing. Or something."

"Oh," Ryou said, more confused than ever.

Shadi reached into his robe, then pulled out a set of shining gold scales. "the final item, which I must test you all with now, before I can return it to you,"

"A test?" Duke looked annoyed. "I thought this was a holiday, not a work away camp."

Serenity elbowed him, but looked rather worried herself.

"What sort of test?" Yugi asked. "if it's going to endanger my friends-"

"No, of course not. Not that sort of test," Shadi smiled sympathetically. "You, Yugi, have already passed the test."

Yugi was hardly relieved. "I thought you were helping us? The other items didn't need any tests…"

"Unfortunately it is something I must do," to his credit, Shadi did look regretful, and he bowed his head as he opened up his hand. "I need the Key, just for a moment."

Yugi reached in his pocket and pulled it out. Shadi took it with an expression like greeting an old friend, then he held it out, between the entire group. His gaze settled equally on all of them.

"Not to be rude- well, actually, yes, to be rude," Kaiba cut in. "But what is the purpose of this little freak show? Is this some kind of weird séance you lot have going on? Because I don't believe in that kind of stuff."

"What, you never seen a guy suddenly appear with a pair of scales before?" Joey asked. "you're missing out, pal."

"Shut up, Wheeler." Kaiba glared at Shadi. "I demand to know what you're doing here. This is my jet after all. Legally I could have you chucked off."

"Or not, since that _is_ murder," said Tea.

Kaiba turned his glare to her; "details, details."

Shadi was staring at Kaiba too, his eyes quizzical, and it came off quite creepy. Kaiba smiled sarcastically.

"Why don't you take a photo?"

Shadi's expression didn't change; "even though you are so full of disrespect, I can still see all the good within you Seto Kaiba. Just as you have proven before."

"What are you talking about?"

Shadi turned back to the rest of the group, like Kaiba wasn't even there anymore. His eyes softened when he returned the Key to Yugi.

"I sense so much good within many of you,"

"That's good, right?" Duke said eagerly. "so we can have the nice shiny scales now?"

"Unfortunately I sense a great terror too," Shadi continued. "and so long as that is here, it is a risk for you to own all the Millennium Items."

"What?" Duke was incredulous. "listen, we're not travelling all the way to Egypt just for a tan-"

"You were," Serenity reminded.

"oh, yeah…but still. We need the items, dude!"

Shadi shook his head very shortly. "I am sorry, truly," he looked mostly at Yugi. "perhaps I will leave the judgement up to you, and we can meet again before this is all over."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't deprive you of the item you want," Shadi explained. "I am just the spirit of another time…all I can do is advise. But I do wish you'll think hard on it, and know that what I say is true. It is a risk."

"But we need the items now-" even as Yugi spoke, the spirit was fading away, the scales disappearing with him.

Nobody moved, just staring at the spot for a while.

"A great terror," Kaiba pretended to ponder, breaking the silence. "gee, I wonder what that could be."

Everyone followed Kaiba's meaningful gaze, in Bakura's direction. Bakura didn't do anything, but Marik moved to his side.

"He's helping us. There's nothing wrong with him."

8

Almost everyone had chosen to sleep in the small bedroom area; and according to Seto Kaiba, small was actually a very roomy en suite, plenty enough to fit the entire group and then some. It was five star accommodation compared to their sorry stay at the apartment anyway.

Bakura seemed keen to stay in the flight area though, away from everyone else. Marik didn't think about not accompanying him, and he wasn't everyone else.

"Hey, remember this?"

He pulled the gutted plushie of a rabbit out of his bag, the one they'd got at the arcade.

It seemed so long ago now, almost another time, and yet it was only a few days.

"You kept it?" Bakura asked.

"Well of course. It's cute. In a demented way." Marik attempted to tidy it up a bit. "kind of reminds me of you, actually."

Bakura stared at him. "a rabbit?"

"_No_," Marik laughed. "I mean, it reminds me of _being _with you, at the arcades. It was fun." he paused then and gave Bakura a reflective look. "although now that you mention it…you do look sort of bunny-like." He poked at one of Bakura's spiked hairs, and noticed the way Bakura didn't understand the joke. It made Marik laugh some more.

Ra, it was nice just to laugh, even over stupid things which only he seemed to find funny.

Bakura watched him with interest.

"When all this is over I'm gonna show you some laughs," Marik said, leaning back in his chair some more. "there is so much in the world to see and do, I can hardly wait."

"Like what?"

"Oh you know. Travelling. That sort of thing."

Bakura looked like he was thinking hard on the idea; "It would be different. I don't really remember anything else."

"You mean besides the Ring?"

"Yes."

Marik was touched with empathy; "seems like we've both been trapped inside, for too long."

He looked out the window, where the clouds were breezing by slowly, like mist in the night sky.

"Will you stay?" he asked, not wanting to look at the Spirit. He feared the reaction. "I mean, after all this. Will you?"

"I'd not thought about it."

"You should. I mean…I don't mean you _should _stay with me, I just think you should think about it…okay?"

"Okay,"

"I mean, where else will you stay? What about money, all that sort of stuff. It won't be easy…" Marik looked at his hands, pretending they were so interesting. "it might be easier if you hung out with me though. For both of us, I think."

"I'd like that,"

Marik faced Bakura, his stomach jumping. "Really?"

"Yes," Bakura's mouth moved uncertainly, mimicking the curve of Marik's. "I like when you're here."

"Me too." Marik thought he'd never been so happy to know a reply.

And yet he remembered all those faces in the lobby, watching Bakura and not trusting him at all. It was all so clear and obvious to them, they all knew who the "dark terror" was.

Marik wouldn't believe it anymore. He couldn't; Bakura wasn't like that with him, and how could anyone else know that?

"You're protecting me, how can they not trust you?" Marik said. "after all that's happened."

"I don't care if they trust me," Bakura said quickly, his eyes on Marik and nothing else.

Marik was taken by the strange defiance in them.

"You're brave," he heard himself say.

"I'm not," Bakura seemed repulsed by the idea.

"Of course you are,"

"To be brave I must be afraid, and I don't feel that."

"You don't get scared?"

Bakura shrugged. His eyes flashed then, something strange, like regret. "I don't have the same feelings,"

"No," Marik shook his head. "That's not right. I've seen you scared. You just don't know these feelings yourself, that's all."

"You think so?"

"Yeah,"

Bakura seemed to process that idea with some clarity. "I must be losing my mind," he decided, with no trace of humour at all.

Marik laughed anyway. "well, you are a bit crazy sometimes," he admitted. "But you're a five thousand year old spirit. I think you're allowed to be. Just a bit."

A smile pulled at Bakura's lips. "I'll remember that for the next time the Pharaoh wants to lecture me."

"He's five thousand years old too, though. I don't think that excuse will wash with him,"

Bakura looked forlorn; "perfect Pharaoh, immune to madness,"

Marik grinned at him, but quickly noticed the way Bakura's face creased, like he was concerned about what he'd just said.

"What's wrong?" Marik asked.

"It's," Bakura paused. "I wonder a lot, when I think about the Pharaoh."

"What about?"

Bakura blinked at him. "If I'm good enough?"

"I don't understand," Marik said. "Good enough for what?"

"I know the Pharaoh is good enough," Bakura explained slowly, like he was thinking carefully on every word. "for his host…Yugi. And Yugi…he isn't afraid of the Pharaoh. He trusts him."

"Bakura," Marik turned his body so he was properly facing Bakura, and he put a hand over the Spirit's. "you do know, I'm not afraid of you, don't you?"

Bakura didn't say anything; his eyes rested on Marik's hand.

"It's true, I'm not," Marik said, feeling so confident in it. "And I do trust you. Doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. Even that weirdo, Shadi...hey, _look," _he tipped Bakura's chin up, in a way he wouldn't have dared before, finding Bakura's dark eyes staring into his own, and finding something there he wouldn't have found before either.

There was naked emotion there, and no blank mask for Marik to try and figure out anymore. He could easily see the vulnerability flashing, just as he'd found it the other night, when he had tasted Bakura.

Marik reached out and found the Necklace, still safe round the Spirit. "My sister gave you this, and I trust her," he touched it lightly. "So I can trust you."

Bakura's eyes grew wide, and his face froze with Marik's words. His hand twitched beneath Marik's.

"Marik," he mostly whispered. He held the tomb keeper's arm in a needy way, as if he knew no other way to go about showing it. "I'm glad you do,"

Marik's skin burned with the touch, and he held Bakura's wrist. The gentle hum of the jet engine was the only sound for a few seconds, and Marik didn't have to think about it.

There was no uncertainty now, as he tilted his head, only registering Bakura's surprised eyes for a second.

He pressed his lips against the Spirit's, in a soft but wanting sort of kiss. How he _wanted _it.

Bakura melted into him, making a small murmuring sound. Vaguely, Marik took it as a good sign, and he shifted on top of the Spirit, against sharp knees and slender hips.

He felt hands move experimentally around his back, and Bakura's chest crushing into his own. The Ring pressed into his skin for a few harsh seconds.

Marik gasped with all the sensations; the ice cold and the hard metal, and felt Bakura's sharp exhalation beneath him. The way he moaned when Marik dared deepen the kiss, parting the Spirit's mouth and feeling sharp teeth and a warm tongue twining into his own.

A myriad of emotions lanced through their link, and Bakura's chest trembled, telling Marik how new it all was to him. Marik curved hands over Bakura's face, lining his jaw with careful fingers and finding his neck with a sound of pleasure.

Bakura twisted a bit, hands clinging near Marik's shoulders, holding onto him like he wouldn't let go.

Marik pulled back only slightly. He felt so hot, and Bakura was breathing hard in front of him, his usual white pallor all flushed, and his eyes heavy-lidded and dancing in a feverish sort of way. It made Marik feel dizzy.

"Alright?" he asked, and found he was breathless too.

Bakura nodded and licked his lips. They were wet and red, inviting Marik all over again. He leant down, touching them with softer intentions. Bakura arced up, and the Ring felt so familiar against Marik.

Bakura made a soft sound of pleasure, and it was all so overwhelming that Marik barely felt another heat pulse against his chest, not until it became too hot.

He flinched back, his chest burning, and he looked down to see the Ring glowing far too brightly.

Feeling sick, he looked back up at the Spirit. He was watching Marik in a dazed sort of way.

"Bakura, is he calling you? My dark half?" Marik whispered, not wanting it to be.

Bakura blinked at him, as if all his caution had been dulled. "Probably."

"What do you mean?" Marik gripped his wrist; it felt cold and loose. "Can you sense him? In your mind?"

"It's...tiring." Bakura was distracted. He raised a hand, curling it around Marik's face very lightly. "It felt wonderful...to be with you, like that."

Marik shook his head, his throat all dry and his eyes stinging; "_Please_, Bakura. Try to focus. Is my dark half trying to reach you right now?"

Bakura didn't seem to hear. He tilted his head and moved the rest of the way to touch Marik's lips.

His mouth was still warm with what had already happened, and for a moment Marik thought that he could forget everything.

Instead he held Bakura's shoulders and pulled him sharply back. It hurt to do it, to see Bakura's bewildered face like that, but there was no time.

"Bakura! Listen to me! You must tell me what's happening!"

"Marik..." Bakura sounded pained, then he sank back.

Marik pressed his arms all round the Spirit, closing his eyes tight when he felt the body against his own become so slack and cold.

888

Yami was always ready now, always on the edge, to take over his host's body if it was needed.

Now he stood in Bakura's Soul Room, waiting for something.

It was strange though. Usually Yami was so braced and ready for that cold that always hit him, that was so Bakura and harsh and awful. Yet now he could feel…not exactly warmth, but like the remnants of it. As though something warm had been there, and left not so long ago.

Something else was different too. As his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, Yami noticed a strange object, a few meters from where he stood. It was extraordinary really; the Soul Room was not exactly known for it's furniture placement.

Yami approached it warily, keeping his eyes half on the thick cloud that always hung above.

It was a slab, or more a tablet. Shapes melded into it which Yami recognised at once.

"The Millennium items,"

They were all there; except for two; the Rod and the Scales. All placed within those carved stone shapes, fitting like a huge jigsaw.

"What it this?" Yami reached out and touched the nearest; his own Puzzle. It felt so real, just like his own. For a second he had to check with some panic that he was still wearing the real one.

Of course he was, but he still felt uneasy. None of this made much sense, and coming from Bakura's mind it was more than a little worrying.

Something echoed from around him, and Yami spun, to see the dark figure leaning against a stone wall, near enough that Yami could make out his leer.

"Bakura, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," even as he spoke, the figure slipped down the wall onto the ground. Yami ran to the Spirit. Bakura's eyes were wary and tired close up, the leer more of a frown. He started to cough and Yami saw all the blood in his mouth.

"Keep still, don't try to get up," Yami instructed, placing a stern hand his chest. He noticed the Necklace, and where the Ring was supposed to be.

"Where is.." he held his tongue, recognising the creeping darkness all around them, and knowing what the answer would be. And anyway Bakura looked like he might be passing out.

"Come on, don't do that," Yami pulled Bakura away from the wall, as though it might help somehow. Bakura gave him an irritated look;

"You're worried?" he frowned.

"Isn't it obvious," Yami shifted the Spirit mostly against himself, feeling the coolness spread all about his chest. It was easy to slip into it, and he grabbed Bakura's essence with some vigor.

It was so faint but it was there, and he latched onto it, trying to remember how he fed the Spirit energy, how it was all supposed to work. If only Bakura was sensible enough to realise he needed it, of course.

"Urgh," Bakura was trying to pull away, in a stubborn but very weak sort of motion. He groaned and more blood leaked from his mouth, positively scarlet against his white face.

"_Bakura," _Yami shook him. "this is important! We can't let him get through again!"

He read Bakura's barely focussed face, willing him to try. Then in a decisive action, he pulled the Spirit close to him, ignoring his surprised sound, and the warm spill of blood that dripped on his shoulder. Yami spoke into Bakura's ear;

"Listen. I'm giving you my energy now. You have to take it."

Bakura made a cracked sound, but nothing else.

"It's important," Yami continued, speaking lower. "It's the only way to help Marik."

Bakura's body twitched against Yami. He sighed very quietly, and Yami moved back, feeling the heat of the Spirit's link start to find his own.

"That's it," Yami encouraged, holding his shoulders. Bakura looked at him, his face laboured and flushed, but a marked surge was emitting from his link, telling Yami he was taking some energy from him.

"I..." Bakura breathed, his voice faltering and his shoulders shaking.

"It's okay," Yami found himself stroking the Spirit's back. "It's helping you," he held Bakura tighter, even as he started to wheeze and more blood escaped his mouth. The Spirit's shoulders slumped though, and his expression relaxed a bit.

Yami pushed the rest of the energy into Bakura's essence, making it twist with a small sense of revitalisation. It wasn't very much though, and Bakura didn't seem to be accepting any more.

"Stop it..." he croaked, and the link disconnected suddenly between them. He swayed, and Yami held him steady.

"You should have taken more, you idiot."

"No more," Bakura whispered. He heaved then, and the blood pooled out of his mouth. Yami held him forwards.

"Are you alright now?"

"I can't do this…not for much longer…"

"I know that," Yami nodded. He noticed the way Bakura looked at him, only because it was so different.

"I don't want to let Marik down..." the Spirit said, and his hands dug into the stone floor with tension. "And I don't like caring about it...I don't want to."

Yami shook his head; "you...you can't help that. That's how it happens."

"Is this how it feels for you?" there was urgency in Bakura's voice. "For you and your host? Have you always felt that way, Pharaoh?"

Yami realised what Bakura was asking, and he was struck by the desperate confusion in his old enemy.

He didn't know what he was supposed to say to make things better. He knew Bakura couldn't properly comprehend, that he couldn't help what he was. Yami couldn't get angry about that anymore.

"I... I have always cared about things," he decided after a moment. "Yugi just happens to be a big one."

Bakura looked unhappily at him; "I don't want to feel things like that."

"It's not always so terrible," Yami told him.

He watched with some anxiety as Bakura pulled a hand through his hair, more like a shaking sort of fist, and his mouth was trembling between a grimace and a grin.

"You're right. It's not always so terrible," he said. "I was...there was a minute, just before I came back here, when I'd never felt such feelings...do you know those feelings, Pharaoh?"

"I think so-"

Yami's curiosity was broken by a strange shifting sound, not from above them, where the darkness still hung, but definitely somewhere on the ground. Yami twisted round fast, to see a jagged shadow lurching across a stone wall, just opposite them.

Though it was mostly obscured by the dark, Yami easily saw it's black skin, and the way it's claws folded. And then sharp teeth that twisted into a snarl as it got closer.

Yami had seen that thing before. Whether it had all been in his mind or not, it hardly mattered. It was here now, and it made Yami's chest tighten with wanted memories that just wouldn't come.

"What is...what is that thing?" he whispered.

"It comes by every now and then," Bakura said faintly. "Sometimes it calls to me...not so much as it used to, though. Not very often at all, anymore..."

"Will it hurt us?"

Bakura shook his head. "It's not...I don't think it's as strong as it was, for some reason."

"Well," Yami watched as the creature seemed to skulk back into shadow. "We have to-we have to get the Ring back," his voice felt strained, he wasn't sure why.

"We won't have to wait very long for that," Bakura was watching the cloud of dark, and as he spoke it began to move, slowly descending a few feet in front of them.

Yami immediately scrambled up, pulling the Key from his pocket and holding the Puzzle tight in his other hand.

Dark Marik appeared through the folds of dark, swinging the Ring delicately in his hand. He looked at Yami;

"More items, just for me? How thoughtful."

Yami wasn't saved any further conversation; an immediate wave of black met him, his _mind,_ attacking it and pulling at his shields.

He concentrated hard, pointing the Puzzle and Key as well as he could in the direction he hoped was Dark Marik. It was hard to tell; the darkness had formed a thick smog all around them.

Some of the items' powers must have gotten through though, when some of the pain subsided. Yami took a second to gather himself together; he was shaking and the items were hot in his hands.

Then another attack, somehow fiercer than the first, almost physically knocking him back. The dark wasn't just playing around anymore.

As his barrier began peeling away, the memory of almost losing Yugi flashed in his mind and pulled a tug of determined fight out of him. Still he fell to his knees next to Bakura, grasping to find some more strength.

"I need…I need your help, Bakura! You have the Necklace, you can still use it!"

Bakura moved with some effort to his feet. The Necklace glowed, but not for very long. Bakura gasped, before falling back down again.

Dark Marik laughed; "he can't help you Pharaoh. Don't you see? I took the source of his power…the _Ring_. Without that he is trapped and can't fight against this Darkness."

Yami watched, feeling hopeless, as the dark crept all around them, a strangling pull curving round Yami's limbs, and the Puzzle burning into him, the Key stinging in his hand. He heard Bakura's cry, and he saw the dark Spirit lie on the floor, quite still.

"Bakura!" Yami crawled to him, through all his pain, pulling the Spirit onto his back. "Bakura, there must be a way! We're so close, you can't tell me it's over now,"

It was hard to see through all the dark, but Bakura opened his eyes and spoke in a tired way; "look, in my pocket."

Yami followed the Spirit's glance, and didn't question it. He reached in Bakura's jacket and found something glowing and round.

"The Millennium Eye," less victorious, more stunned, Yami held the item up, along with the Key and the Puzzle.

Together they formed a great stream of light, and Yami felt the barrier pulling back up in his mind again, and the dark around him was becoming clearer, as though a steamed window was being wiped clean before his eyes.

Something made a sharp noise, not too far away, and as the cloud moved back into the air, taking Dark Marik with it, the Ring spun on the ground, striking light at all angles.

Bakura crawled across the floor and picked it up. He looked up at the dark. "better luck next time,"

Yami crossed over to the Spirit, grabbing his arm. "there won't be a next time. Now _come on_."

88

Yami gulped in air and looked around, dazed and aware of so many faces watching him with baited breath. He pulled away from Bakura, who was coughing, and Marik was hugging him hard.

"Are you okay? Tell me you're okay?" he was saying.

Yami felt Tea's hand on his own, giving him a frightened look.

"We're all okay," he nodded, mostly at her. "All of us," he didn't need to indicate Yugi in the Puzzle.

"That's nice. And you're bleeding all over my jet," Kaiba commented, a short distance from the others.

"What happened?" Marik was watching Bakura with great concern, who seemed more interested in going to sleep.

"The usual, amongst other things," Yami didn't waste another moment. He held his hand out before Bakura; "Give me the item."

Bakura opened his eyes, an unstable smirk dancing on his lips as he reached into his pocket.

Everyone watched, quite stunned, as he pulled the Eye out, rolling it in his palm.

"Another Item?" Duke said. "our crazy demon friend, just full of surprises, ain't ya?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Yami demanded. "how long did you have it?"

"Come now," Bakura looked amused through his pain; "Are you forgetting Duelist Kingdom so quickly, Pharaoh? After all that trouble you went through with your host-"

"-you took it from Pegasus," said Yami, not helping his horror. "you were the one who did that."

"Did what?" Marik said worriedly, "what did you do, Bakura?"

Everyone looked uneasy, and Tristan made an awkward coughing noise.

"Does any of it matter anymore?" Bakura snapped. "I returned the Eye to you. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Did you kill him?" it was Marik who asked, not in a nervous way; but direct and fearless, like he could handle it.

Bakura kept his eyes on Yami though.

"It was a Shadow duel. He was well aware of the possible consequences of owning a Millennium item. I just did what was necessary to take it from him."

Yami closed his eyes. How angry he was…and yet it was so hard to piece it all together, to make some sort of sense of it.

This murderous Spirit, who had done so much harm, had spoken to him only minutes before, about Marik and protection, and about wanting to help, even though he hated it.

"Pegasus?" Kaiba snorted. "If you ask me that crackpot got what he was coming to him."

"Nobody asked you," Joey jeered.

"It doesn't matter. You all know what Pegasus did. I'm siding with that thing," Kaiba barely spared Bakura a glance.

Bakura didn't seem to notice. He closed his eyes. "I've already told you the items are important to me. I'll get them by whatever means I can. Now, do you want this one or should I keep it?"

Yami hesitated, then reached out and took the Eye. It was cool and only a little heavy, like it wasn't anything significant.

"But why didn't you tell me about it before?" he asked. "If our goal is so common, why would you keep another item from me?"

"You kept it from me too," said Marik,

Bakura turned to the tomb keeper at once. "I'm sorry."

He really looked it too, Yami could tell. And for that there was no point in pursuing it. Yami wouldn't forget Bakura in the Soul Room, and he knew how the Spirit felt.

"You're still bleeding all over my jet," Kaiba said, not seeming a tiny bit interested in anything else.

In a swift motion, he snatched Bakura's arm and pulled him upright.

Bakura grimaced but made no move to resist the CEO, as he started dragging him away.

Marik jumped up after them; "where're you going?"

Yami exchanged bewildered looks with everyone else, and then Ryou came into the room, whiter than usual.

"What did I miss?"

"Not much," Joey patted his head. "you just get back to trying not to be sick."

888

Kaiba, Marik and Bakura all sat round the CEO's rather plush looking table. Bakura occasionally blinked, as though to remind the other two he was still awake. He had been sick a few times, and Marik sat on edge, waiting for the next time it happened.

"So," Kaiba steepled his hands, leaning forward on the table. "are you two going to tell me what's going on with Yugi and his stupid friends or not?"

"What?" Marik raised a brow.

"I'm not stupid. I know that Yugi needs those God cards for a reason. It's not every day you take random trips to Egypt, is it?" his blue eyes were alight and cunning. "And with the God cards too? Don't tell me that has nothing to do with it?"

Marik fidgeted in his chair; "what are you asking, Kaiba?"

"Perhaps Yugi and his friends won't tell me these things," Kaiba's mouth moved into a vague smile. "But you two seem to have…_looser_ morals, if you know what I mean?"

Marik was affronted. "You really think we're that bad-"

"Oh, c'mon. You tried to kill the Pharaoh," Kaiba rolled his eyes, "also he's insane." he jerked his head at Bakura.

Bakura smiled,, as though it was a compliment. Marik snorted at him; "I didn't want to _kill_ the Pharaoh,"

"But you would have done,"

"Well," Marik eyed the table, not liking what the CEO was confronting him with. "It's different now. And anyway," he looked back up at Kaiba, "I didn't think you believed any of this stuff?"

"There comes a point," Kaiba said ruefully, "where even I have to admit to what I'm seeing in front of my eyes. Or what else is there? Have I actually gone crazy?"

Bakura laughed with such enthusiasm that he started coughing all over again. Marik patted him faintly on the back.

"Well then, _have I_?" Kaiba directed at Bakura in a demanding way. "You know something about me, don't you?"

Bakura took time to compose himself. "I'm afraid I don't know as much as you think I do," he watched Kaiba as though he was an interesting ornament. "but there is something about you, yes."

"How helpful," Kaiba said sarcastically.

"What else do you expect me to say?"

"I don't know, _anything_! You said you knew me, from many years ago. Or something like that."

Bakura seemed surprised by the idea. "did I?" he wore a concentrating gaze, then shook his head. "it's difficult…to remember everything. So much happens…"

Marik noticed the way he was still perspiring, and the strong scent of sickness was still there. He put a hand on Bakura's arm and glared at Kaiba.

"He doesn't know, so just leave it."

"Maybe he never knew. He's obviously scrabbled in the brains," Kaiba shook his head. "What the hell is he, anyway?"

Marik frowned. He found it hard to answer. Some part of him didn't want to say it, because he'd been getting so used to forgetting it.

"A…he's just Bakura, that's all," he decided, after a moment.

Kaiba scowled. "neither of you are very helpful, are you? Has Yugi been having words, swearing you to some sort of secrecy? I didn't think you'd join his fan club so easily-"

Bakura seemed to snap out of his temporary daze; he moved like lightning across the table, on all fours and hands clawing to reach Kaiba, before Marik managed to pull him back, but not without some effort.

"Bakura, _stop it_!"

Kaiba laughed, keeping a wise distance back in his chair. "you really _are_ crazy, aren't you?"

Bakura panted against Marik's grip, glaring hard at the CEO; "I didn't swear anything to the Pharaoh, I would never do that…"

"Pharaoh?…Oh _right_, that other weird guy who lives_ inside_ Yugi," Kaiba laughed again. "No wonder I feel like I'm going mad. You couldn't make this stuff up."

"Shut up, Kaiba," Marik growled. "if you're so interested, why don't you come along?"

He felt Bakura's tension leaving his grip, and then the Spirit started to cough, and he staggered, gripping the table for support. Marik pulled him back into his chair.

Kaiba smiled, seeming to enjoy that he'd gotten a rise out of Bakura. He leant back, arms folded and contemplative.

"Not a bad idea." he looked between them both. "I may as well make use of this trip, since I am the one taking us there," He stood up, his face not so much cold as it was casual; "And keep him in vicinity of the toilets. I don't usually let people bleed and puke all over my jet, you know."

As the CEO left, Marik turned to Bakura. The Spirit was resting his head on the table, though his eyes were wide and he was looking past Marik at something else.

"How're you feeling?" Marik asked cautiously.

"Wonderful," Bakura said, without a trace of irony. "look at the sky."

Marik followed Bakura's gaze to the nearest window.

The sky was lit up a brilliant orange, as though it was on fire, and Marik could already feel the heat of where they were.

888

Notes: Next update won't be for a little while. I'm going to be away for a couple of months in the new year because of my ridiculous life. And since this is early and in time (hallelujah!); Merry Christmas!

Oh yeah; what is the American slang term for portaloo?…I'm pretty sure Americans don't call toilets "loos"… or do you? -confusion-


End file.
